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£^ 


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"TI 


D.  & 


OOB 


^^^ 


LEGENDS 


or 


SAINT    JOSEPH. 


Matron  ot  tb«  Inivtrsial  (S>lnmh. 


/:    . 


By   ABBfi    *    ♦    ♦  ;  i    _     ^.,^,^^_  (tcS    I 


TRANSIATED  FBOM  THE  FBENCH 


"The  memory  of  the  just  1»  with  pr»h»8."-Pr(w.  t.  T. 


NEW   YORK : 

D.  &  J.   8ADLIER  &  CO.,  81   BARCLAY   STREEf. 

HONTBIilAL  : 

OOE.   NOTRE  DAMB  AND  ST.  FRANCIS  XAVIIE  STBEITB. 

1872. 


I  um iii>i»i|iliiaii*<tii1«>i«r«ir;ifeffiiitft)iNrt^ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  ConKre",  »n  the  year  1872, 

By  D.  &  J.  8ADLIEU  &  CO., 

In  the  Offloe  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


II-  'biio/ 


8t»i»o»J|>«dl>y'IN<'BNT  DILL, 

»J  Ic  *T  New-Cli»inlnn  8t,  N.  Y. 


f  The 
to  the 
rend  < 
partal 
ter,  in 
althoii 
true,  { 
religio 
Blossc 
"The 
others 
tural 
einbel 
M,— 1 
the  si 
eccles 
atitlie 
rence, 
I  1 
presei 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 


!onKre»»,  'n  the  year  1872, 

LIEU  &  CO., 

)f  CongreM,  at  Washington. 


?f?^/ 


I  The  "Legends  of  St.  Joseph,"  hovo  given 
■  to  tlie  public,  have  boon  gathered  by  the  rove- 
rend  compiler  from  many  Hources.  Tliey  all 
partake,  more  or  less,  of  tho  legendary  charac- 
ter, in  so  far  us  tho  manner  of  relating  goes, 
although  several  are  strictly  and  historically 
true,  and  taken  from  the  archives  of  cities  or 
religious  houses.  Some,  like  "  The  Bod  in 
Blossom,"  "The  Shepherds  of  Bethlehem," 
"The  First  Christmas  Night,"  and  a  few 
others,  are  in  strict  conformity  with  tho  Scrip- 
tmal  narrative  ;  while  others  are  more  or  less 
embellished  by  the  pious  fancies  of  tlie  faith- 
ful,— filling  up,  as  it  were,  in  process  of  time, 
the  somewhat  meagre  details  of  gospel  and 
ecclesiastical  history.  Some,  again,  are  well 
authenticated  facts  of  quite  recent  occur- 
rence. 

I  have  endeavored,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
preserve  throughout  the  simple  phraseology  of 


Tbanslatob's  Preface. 


tlio  original,  so*wt)ll  bciitting  popular  Icgciuls. 
Tlio  poems  I  havo  done  my  best  to  roiulor 
faithfully :  no  easy  matter  it  is,  as  tlio  rtsador 
will  understand,  to  carry  the  versification  of 
one  language  into  another.  In  each  of  tlio 
poems  I  havo  retained  the  original  measuro, 
us  being  very  suitable  to  the  ballad  style,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  musical  enough  to  please 
the  oar. 

It  is  with  grateful  satisfnction  that  I  find 
uiyself  finishing  the  translutitm,  and  writing 
this  Preface,  on  the  first  AVednesday  in  March, 
the  month  which  Christian  piety  sets  apart  for 
the  special  honor  of  St.  Joseph ;  and  I  luunbly 
trust  that  the  beloved  Patron  of  the  Church, 
and  the  special  protector  of  Christian  families, 
Avill  accept  my  share  of  the  work  as  the  hum- 
ble offering  of  a  heart  that  loves  hira  and  his 
Immaculate  Spouse  Avith  a  truly  fiUal  love,  and 
that  he  will  bless  this  little  book,  so  that  it 
may  tend  to  make  him  known  and  loved  by 
the  children  of  the  Church  as  the  kind,  good 
father,  and  faithful  friend  of  those  who  seek 

his  blessed  patronage. 

M.  A.  S. 

Nbw  York,  March  6,  1872. 


M 


Ippro 


We 

hook   ( 

There 

traditii 

ciety  ti 

sacred 
pious  1 
of  "Lt 
hy  the 
in  thei 
by  the 
the  id 
lieauti 
garded 
deeply 


lEFACE. 

g  pdpnlar  Icgciuls. 
iiy  boHt  to  rondor 
t  is,  as  the  viMiilor 
lie  versiticiitiou  of 
In  each  of  the 

orij^iniil  inoiiHnro, 
)  biilUul  8t,>  lo,  ami, 

enough  to  please 

"action  that  I  find 
tttion,  and  writing 
itlncsday  in  March, 
piety  sets  apart  for 
cph ;  and  I  humbly 
[•on  of  the  Church, 
'  Christian  families, 
3  work  as  the  hum- 
loves  him  and  his 
truly  fiUal  love,  and 
le  book,  so  that  it 
lown  and  loved  by 
1  as  the  kind,  good 
of  those  who  seek 

M.  A.  S. 


Ippi'obiitioit  of  tjjc  |Msj)op  of  lllontrcal. 


We  have  read,  with  lively  int(;rest,  a 
book  entitled  "Legends  of  St.  J<)se])li." 
There  are,  as  every  one  knows,  family 
triulitions  perpetuated  in  Christian  so- 
ciety to  maintain  the  spirit  of  faith  and 
piety,  although  they  form  no  part  of  the 
sacred  deposit  of  Catholic  faitli.  These 
j)i()us  traditions  are  known  by  the  name 
of  "Legends,"  and  our  fathers,  animated 
by  the  spirit  of  faith,  took  great  delight 
in  them.  In  that  they  were  guided,  not 
by  the  rules  of  severe  criticism,  hut  by 
the  ideas  generally  followed  in  those 
beautiful  ages  when  falsehood  was  re- 
jrarded  with  horror,  because  men  were 
deeply  imbued  with   the  truth  that  it 


.,_  »*-c^  ^  1, 


VI 


APPROBATION  OF  THE 


gives  death  to  tlie  soul ;  and  as,  in  those 
times  of  innocence  and  simplicity,  people 
took  care  not  to  deceive  others,  so  they 
could  not  believe  that  others  wished  to 
deceive  their  brethren. 

It  is  with  this  rule  of  simple  good 
faith  that  the  "Legends  of  St.  Joseph" 
nuist  be  read,  if  one  would  find  in  them 
the  sweet  attraction  which  such  reading 
always  has.  The  lessons  conveyed  in 
them,  under  different  forms,  all  of  the 
most  pleasing  kind,  make  the  perusal 
of  this  book  useful  and  advantageous. 
From  the  examples  given  we  may  learn 
that  no  one  ever  has  recourse  in  vain  to 
the  good  St.  Joseph,  the  worthy  spouse 
of  the  immaculate  Virgin,  the  gracious 
foster-father  of  the  Son  of  God  made 
man,  the  powerful  patron  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

We  believe,  then,  that  good  Christians 
will  find  in  the  reading  of  these  Legends 
wherewith  to  nourish  their  piety,  their 


OF  THE 


BISHOP  OF  MONTOEAL. 


vu 


;  and  as,  in  those 
1  simplicity,  people 
ive  others,  so  they 
t  others  wished  to 

e  of  simple  good 
ids  of  St.  Joseph" 
rould  find  in  them 
vhich  such  reading 
isons  conveyed  in 
forms,  all  of  the 
make  the  perusal 
and  advantageous. 
;iven  we  may  learn 
recourse  in  vain  to 
the  worthy  spouse 
irgin,  the  gracious 
5on  of  God  made 
iron  of  the  Catholic 

hat  good  Christians 
ig  of  these  Legends 
1  their  piety,  their 


confidence  in,  and  their  devotion  to,  that 
great  Saint.  Doubtless  there  are  not 
wanting  many  other  good  books  written 
in  honor  of  this  admirable  Patriarch; 
but  he  is  so  great  and  so  worthy  of 
praise  from  the  entire  world,  that  there 
could  never  be  good  books  enough  to 
make  him  known,  nor  eloquent  tongues 
enough  to  proclaim  his  greatness  and  his 
goodness.  Hence  it  is  that  we  hesitate 
not  to  recommend  these  "  Legends  of  St. 
Joseph. 
Given  at  Montreal,  May  20th,  1811. 

»h  IGNATIUS, 

Bishop  of  Montreal. 


Tbanslai 
Appkoda' 


II. 


in. ': 

IV.  '. 
V.  ] 

VI.  ■] 

VII.  1 

VIII.  'j 

IX.  'J 


XI. 

XII. 
XTII. 
XIV. 

XV. 
XVI. 
XVII. 


CONTENTS. 


FAQB 

Thanslator's  PnEFACE iii 

Appkocation  of  the  Bishop  ok  Montreal      .        .        .  v 

I.  The  Morning  and  Evening  Star       ...  11 
II.  Ville  Marie  (now  Montreal) ;  or,  The  Marvel- 
ous Foundation 19 

in.  The  Rod  in  Blossom 27 

IV.  The  First  Cliristmas  Night       ....  30 

V.  Dut^  Before  All 39 

VI.  The  Value  of  a  Mass 47 

VII.  The  Unexpected  Pilot 55 

VIII.  The  Lighting  of  Naples 58 

IX.  Tlic  Shepherds  of  Bethlehem  ...  66 

X.  Tlie  Clirigtmas  Dinner 78 

XI.  The  Paris  Dressmalier 88 

XII.  A  Meeting 96 

XIII.  The  Palm  Grove 107 

XIV.  The  Good  Thief 114 

XV.  The  Caravan 123 

XVI.  The  Desert 132 

XVII.  The  Return  to  Nazareth 138 


Contents. 


XVm.  The  Hawthorn  Bush    . 
XIX.  The  Second  Meeting     . 
XX.  OM-Time  Windows      . 
XXI.  The  Snake  . 
XXII.  The  Panther 

XXIII.  Tlxc  Ursulines  of  Quebec 

XXIV.  Ave,  Joseph ! 
XXV.  Tlic  Mysterious  Hosts  . 

XXVI.  An  Extraordinary  Vocation 
XXVII.  The  Little  Cabin-Boy   . 
XXVIII.  Tlie  Pearl  Lost  and  Found 
XXIX.  Scenes  in  Nazareth 
XXX.  Tlie  Saw       . 
XXXI.  Tlie  Choice  of  a  King  . 
XXXII.  An  Apparition     . 

XXXIII.  The  Lost  Children 

XXXIV.  The  Bird  cf  Paradise  and  the 

Bird         .... 
XXXV.  The  Last  Moments  of  St.  Joseph 
XXXVI.  The  Holy  House 
XXXVII.  The  Advocate  of  Hopeless  Cases 


Humming 


royalty 


APPENDIX 


316 


}. 


nrt  the 
.  Joseph 
B8  Cases 


Humming 


LEGENDS  OF  ST.  JOSEPH. 


THE  MORNING  AND  EVENING  STAR. 

|T  is  often  asked  why  God  so  long 

delayed,  not  only  the  crowning  of, 

but  even  the  general  diffusion  of 

devotion  to  St.  Joseph?    Is  his 

royalty  of  such  recent  date  ? 

It  is  a  universally-admitted  principle,  that 
iu  the  Church,  devotion  to  the  Saints  has  its 
beginning,  its  progress,  its  perfection.  Very 
different  is  the  light  of  the  sun  at  dawn  and  at 
noonday.  These  several  degrees  are  always 
regulated  by  Infinite  Wisdom,  which  "reaches 
from  end  to  end  mightily,  and  disposeth  all 


12 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


things  sweetly."  (Wisd.,  viii.,  1.)     At  the  out- 
set of  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  the  Virgin, 
as  it  were,  veiled  herself  from  our  eyes,  tho 
better  to  bring  out  the  grand  figure  of  Christ. 
Is  it  not  by  a  similar  abnegation,  an  abnega- 
tion which  makes  the  Angela  wonder,  that  St. 
Joseph  has  remained  so  long  in  tho  shade? 
Was  it  not  that  he  would  have  Jesus,  then 
Mary,  first  take  possession  of  all  hearts,  that 
devotion  to  them  should  be  firmly  established 
in  the  Church,  before  he  advanced  his  own 
claims  to  our  love  and  veneration  ?    We  can- 
not doubt  it. 

But  it  is  unmistakably  true,  that  Joseph, 
although  hidden,  was  ever  living  in  the 
Church,  seen  by  her  and  felt  by  her  chil- 
dren, like  a  faithful  friend  who  remains  un- 
known to  us  under  our  roof,  quietly  averting 
from  us  every  danger,  and  even  providing  us 
with  the  means  of  living. 

Yes,  we  shall  unceasingly  repeat,  Joseph, 
like  Mary,  always  lived  in  the  Church.  He 
always  sustained    her  by  his    powerful,  al- 


though 
which 
merit, 
of    Ho 
Mai'y,  i 
16.)    1 

j  i"*<.  h; 
of  just 

j  Mary  t 
"  Beho 

I  sorrow 

I  recogu 
'He  V 

I  Hence 
sight  c 
is  seei 
strikin 
endea^ 
cnthu^ 
Here 
ruins 

[the  r< 

I  stamp 


Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


18 


iii.,  1.)     At  the  out- 
Gospel,  the  Virgin, 
from  our  eyes,  tho 
,nd  figure  of  Christ. 
>egation,  an  abnega- 
;el8  wonder,  that  St. 
long  in  the  shade? 
Id  have  Jesus,  then 
m  of  all  hearts,  that 
)e  firmly  established 
I  advanced  his  own 
ineration  ?    We  can- 

f  true,  that  Joseph, 
ever  living  in  the 
id  felt  by  her  chil- 
id  who  remains  un- 
roof, quietly  averting 
id  even  providing  us 

ngly  repeat,  Joseph, 

in  the  Church.    He 

)y  his    powerful,  al- 


though secret  influence.     Were  not  tho  words 
which  express  all  his  dignity,  his  viituo,  his 
merit,  and  his  glory,  inscribed  in  tho  pages 
[of    Holy   Writ?— "Joseph,   the  husband   of 
Maiy,  of  whom  was  born  Jesus."  (St.  Matt.  i. 
16.)    This  Divine  spouse  the  Holy  Ghost  calls 
jimt,  by  a  sort  of  excellence  and  universality 
of  justice,  as  the  Sacred  Doctors  interpret  it. 
[Mary  even  styles  him  the  "father"  of  Jesus: 
"  Behold  !  Thy  father  and  I  have  sought  Thee 
sorrowing."  (St.  Luke,  ii.  49.)     Jesus  Himself 
I  recognized  this  supreme  paternal  authority : 
"  He  was  subject  to  them."  (St.  Luke,  ii.  50.) 
I  Hence  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  cannot  lose 
sight  of  this  divine  personage  :  from  their  pen 
is  seen  going  forth,  here  and  there,  tho  most 
striking  testimony  of  his  glory;   they  seem 
endeavoring  to  confine  within  due  limits  the 
enthusiasm    of    their    love    and    admiration. 
Here  and  there,  too,  are  found,  amongst  the 
ruins  of  ancient  temples,  images  that  prove 
the  remembrance  of  Joseph.     His  name   ia 
I  stamped  on  all  our  sacred  antiquities. 

2 


■i^;'«-    -VWWf-' 


14 


Legends  of  St.  JosErii. 


Joseph  lived  :ab!^vhy.bouia.os«PpreB. 
the  fact?  He  hved  wholly  and  always  with 
Mary,  in  a  sort  of  terrestrial  parn^lise,  where 
the/haa,  as  it  were,  taken  up  then-  aho.h. 
Who  knows  not  that  Mary  was  nonoml  bv 
Elias  and  his  followers,  called  the  clulclren  of 

the  Prophets,  on  Mount  Cannel,  nine  eentu- 
ries  before  her  appearance  on  earth.     Iho 
mystery  of  a  fruitful  Virgin  was  traditional  on 
the  holy  mountain ;  no  sooner  was  it  accom- 
pushed"  than  Joseph  had  his  share  in  the 
homage  of  Carmel.    Intercourse  was  so  easy, 
BO  fi-equent,  so  sweet,  between  the  cottage 
of  Nazareth  and  the  cave  of  EUas  and  the 
Prophets!      There    it  was  that   the    Dmne 
blossom  grew.     Who  knows  not,  Uiei-efore. 
the  blessings  wherewith  the  Holy  Scripture 
covers  the  favored  mountain?    Who  has  not 
remarked  the  celestial  dews  and  rains  where 
■      with  Heaven  watered  and  made  ever  fruitful 
the    flower-enameled    sides    and    miraculous 
summits  of  Carmel? 

In  fine.  Joseph  Uved  on  earth ;  the  ages  felt 


■■  *--s&*.,'«a«^iWt'fe^(£jISfejl(^'?is;-i.J;'^ 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


15 


mV\  wo  fiuppress 
aud  ftlways  with 
I  imrmlisc,  wliero 

up  their  fthodo. 

was  honored  hy 
(h1  the  children  of 
irmol,  nine  centu- 
,  on  earth?  The 
was  traditional  on 
mer  was  it  accom- 

his  share  in  the 
rturse  was  so  easy, 
tween  the  cottage 
)  of  Ehas  and  the 
s  that   the    Divine 
>ws  not,  therefore, 
the  Holy  Scripture 
ain?    Who  has  not 
ws  and  rains  where- 
l  made  ever  fruitful 
es    and    miraculous 

1  earth ;  the  ages  felt 


liira.  They  saw  the  day  of  his  universal  honor 
dawning  afar  off,  like  a  rising  sun.  Hence  the 
appearance,  at  intcvvalH,  of  fervent  servitors, 
who  launched  on  the  world  a  species  of  pro- 
phecies, the  accomplishment  of  which  delights 
us  now.  And  these,  moreover,  are  but  echoes 
of  the  doctrines  of  ages  gone  before. 

Let  UH  first  hear  Isidore  of  I'lsle.  His  voice 
comes  to  us  from  the  sixteenth  century  : — 

"  God  raised  up  and  glorified  St.  Joseph  for 
tlie  honor  of  His  own  name,  establishing  him 
as  head  and  patron  of  the  Church  Militant, 
His  glory  is  far  from  being  at  its  height.  As, 
before  the  last  judgment,  all  nations  must 
know  the  name  of,  and  venerate  and  adore, 
the  only  true  God,  so  also  must  all  admire  the 
long-hidden,  yet  inestimable  gifts  whereof  St. 
Joseph  was  the  recipient.     Yes,  all  gifts  shall 

be  granted  unto  him In  that  favored 

time,  the  Lord  will  give  a  more  subtle  intelli- 
gence to  the  mind  and  the  heart  of  His  elect ; 
they  shall  scrutinize  the  heart  of  St.  Joseph, 
to  admire  therein  the  loving  marvels  of  grace, 


iiatiMdSim- 


16 


LE0END9   OF   ST.   JoSEPn. 


and  they  slwvll  find  an  achnirablo  troasiire, 
such  as  the  Patiiavcbs  of  the  0U\  Law  never 
either  aiscovoretl  or  snspccteil.  That  mag- 
nificent outpouring  of  light  and  gU)ry  shall 
be  the  special  work  of  tho  Hdy  Angels. 
Thu9  shall  he  who  is  first  amongst  tho 
Saints  of  Heaven  take,  on  earth,  that  first 
rank  which  is  his  duo!" 

A  century  later.  Father  Jacquinot,  of  the 
Company  of  Jesus,  delighted  to  repeat  these 
prophecies,   making    them    still    more    clear. 
"Towards  the   end   of  the  world,"  says  he. 
« God  will  tear  asunder  the  veil  which  con- 
ceals from  us  the  marvels  of  the  shrine  of 
Joseph's  holy  heart;  the  Holy  Spirit  will  act 
on  the  hearts  of  the  faithful,  moving  them  to 
exalt  the  glory  of  that  divine  personage ;  re- 
■    ligiotis  houses  shall  be  consecrated  and  temples 
hum  to  him,  and  people  will  recognize  as  a 
special  protector  that  Saint   who  protected 
Jesus  Christ;  the  Sovereign  Pontiffs  thera- 
Belves  shall  decree,  by  a  holy  inspiration  from 
above,  that  this  great  Patriarch  bo  solemnly 


isErn. 


LEQEND8  OP  St.  Joseph. 


17 


liniblo  treasure, 

3  OKI  Law  never 

teil.     That  mag- 

aml  glory  shall 

10  Holy   Angels, 
•st    amongst    the 

earth,  that  first 

Jacqiiinot,  of  the 

11  to  repeat  these 
still    more    elear. 

worlil,"  says  he, 
e  veil  which  cou- 

of  the  shrine  of 
loly  Spirit  will  act 
111,  moving  them  to 
ine  personage ;  re- 
'cratcd  and  kmplcs 
,vill  recognize  as  a 
iijt   who  protected 
ign  Pontiffn  thera- 
aly  inspiration  from 
tiiarch  be  solemnly 


honored  throughout  the  whole  spiritual  do- 
main of  St.  Peter." 

Have  not  all  these  prophecies  been  fully 
accomphshed  in  our  days?  Has  not  the  de- 
votion to  St.  Joseph  made  rapid  progress? 
Has  it  not,  by  a  secret  impulse  of  God,  as- 
sumed proportions  hitherto  unknown?  Eve- 
rywhere it  is  seen  rewarded  by  favors  the 
most  precious.  St.  Joseph  is  truly  the  Just 
Man  praised  by  God,  the  Man  of  our  time. 
From  every  country  arise  eloquent  panegyrists 
who  proclaim  his  greatness.  The  pages  of 
each  relate  new  marvels. 

Our  age  has  seen  the  Evening  Star  rising 
all  radiant  beside  the  Morning  Star.  Both 
are  before  our  eyes.  Both  shine  henceforth 
over  the  world's  troubled  sea.  Joseph  and 
Mary  appear  to  us  united  on  earth  as  they 
are  in  heaven.  Like  Mary,  Joseph  has  his 
temples,  his  altars,  his  festivals.  Like  her, 
he  has  his  religious  con]gi'egations,  devoted  to 
him.  The  year  sets  apart  a  mouth  for  him, 
the  week  a  day.     In  honor  of  Joseph,  as  in 


19  Lroknds  ov  St.  Johki-h. 

honor  of  M-vvy.  aro  orectocl  Ar.lK.o,.t.aterni- 
tioB.  AHHocialions,  and  Co„«r.«alu.„s.  not  o 
Bpeak  of  tlio  holy  fanulios  whoso  father  ho  w. 
ItiB  aecnocl  an  honors  to  ^vear  his  hvory. 
Hi8  Cora  has  bocomo  the  charnni.g  appond- 
affo  of  the  Scapuhir. 

And   why  HhouUl  ho  not  shavo  in  all  the 
l,,,o.s  paid  to  his  divino  Hpousc?     Arc  not 
th.ir  goods  in  common,  and  by  reason  of  their 
virtues?    Was  there  not  a  day  to  come,  O 
Joseph,  when  it  should  bo  given  thee  to  share 
with  Mary  the  only  glory  of  whieh  thou  didst 
seem  to  be   deprived?     The   erown  of   thy 
Spouse  was  to  be.  as  it  were,  doubled,  with- 
out  taking  any  thing  from  its  splendor,  and 
to  rest  on  thee?    That  happiness  wo  owe  to 
.  the  illustrious  Pius  IX.    May  Heaven  reward 
him  for  evermore  1 


VILLE 
Tl 


earth 

works 

Jean 

the  SI 

ont  oi 

which 

of  hii 

his  ci 

men  ( 

tion ; 

blessj 

haviK 


^r«-li<'t)ufraterni- 
ivjrivliouH,  not  to 
[)go  fiither  ho  is. 
veivr  his  Uv«»y. 
lunniiig  nppeud- 

shiivo  in  all  the 
l)ouHO?  Aro  not 
jy  reason  of  their 

iliiy  to  como,  0 
ivcn  theo  to  share 

which  tliou  didst 
lio  crown  of  thy 
re,  doubled,  with- 

its  Hploudor,  and 
ppiness  wo  owe  to 
ay  Heaven  reward 


X 


#5)-'C 


n. 

VILLE    MMIIE    {NOW  MONTREAL);    OR, 
THE  MAUVE  LOUS   FOUNDATION. 

jN  the   first  years  of   the  sixteenth 
century   there   Hved   in   Paris,   in 
St.     Paul's    parish,    a    num   who 
was  to  signalize  his   passage  on 
earth  as  much  by  his  lofty  virtues    as    by 
works  of    zeal   and  charity;    his  name   was 
Jean   OUer.      His   father  was  a   nioniber    of 
the  State  Council,  and  became  Superintend- 
ent of  Lyons  under  Louis  XIII.     The  name 
which   the   young  OUer  bore,  the  high  rank 
of   his  family,  his  rare  qualities,  his  talents, 
his  connection  with    the  most  distinguished 
men  of  his  time,  early  attracted  public  atten- 
tion;    he    Lad    the    signal    honor    of    being 
blessed  by  the  saintly  Bishop  of  Geneva,  of 
having  for  director  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  and 


20 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


also  Father  de  Condreu,  Superior  of  the  Ora- 
tory. But  one  thing  more  remains  to  be 
added ;  he  was  the  founder  of  the  Company 
of  St.  Sulpice.  Such  was  the  man  who  was 
to  estabUsh  in  Canada  the  devotion  to  the 
Holy  Family. 

There  lived,  at  the  same  time,  in  Anjou,  a 
gentleman    named  Jerome    le    Koyer  de    la 
Dauversiere,  collector  of  taxes  at  La  Fleche. 
He  was  a  man  of  great  piety,  of  rare  abne- 
gation, and  the  father  of  six  children.     God 
had  made  known  to  him  that  He  wished  to 
be  particularly  honored  in  the  island  of  Mon- 
treal, by  the  veneration  of  the  Holy  Family, 
and  that  He  chose  him  to  make  the  person 
of  St.  Joseph  honored.     To  this  intent  He 
had  several  times  ordered  him  to   establish 
in  that  island,  as  yet  barren  and  uncultivated, 
a  hospital,  designed  for  the  relief  and  instruc- 
tion of  the  sick,  and  to  form,  for  the  manage- 
ment of  this  house,  a  Congregation  of  Hos- 
pital Nuns,  specially  devoted  to  the  honor  of 
that  great  Saint. 


la 
H 

h€ 

in 

CO 

of 
kr 
ui 
so 
of 
m 
to 
oi 

BC 

ai 

P« 
d( 

la 

tr 

tl 

t( 


j_i.,ji.-^';/,Y^'-:yfSi;--;-'T)*iv "ij 


T.  Joseph. 

Superior  of  the  Ora- 
more  remains  to  be 
itler  of  the  Company 
as  the  man  who  was 

the  devotion  to  the 

ime  time,  in  Anjou,  a 
ime  le  Koyer  de  la 
f  taxes  at  La  Fleche. 
t  piety,  of  rare  abne- 
of  six  children.  God 
m  that  He  wished  to 

in  the  island  of  Mon- 
1  of  the  Holy  Family, 
Q  to  make  the  person 
I.  To  this  intent  He 
ered  him  to  establish 
anen  and  uncultivated, 

the  relief  and  instruc- 
3  form,  for  the  manage- 

Congregation  of  Hos- 
3Voted  to  the  honor  of 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


21 


An  order  so  extraordinary  had  thrown  M.  do 
la  Dauversiere  into  the  strangest  perplexity. 
He  did  not  uudeistand  how,  in  his  position, 
he  could  undertake  the  foundation  of  a  coUmy 
in  America,  and  the  establishment  of  a  new 
congregation  of  women  devoted  to  the  service 
of  St.  Joseph.  The  island  of  Montreal  he 
knew  not  even  by  name.  Nor  did  his  pecuni- 
ary means  warrant  him  in  undertaking  works 
so  important.  He  had  not  even  that  facility 
of  speech  which  presents  enterprises  in  the 
most  favorable  light,  and  persuades  people 
to  embark  in  them.  Nevertheless,  the  same 
orders  were  so  often  renewed,  in  a  manner 
so  urgent,  with  instructions  so  clear  and  so 
precise  concerning  the  situation  of  Montreal 
and  Canada,  the  quality  and  character  of  the 
persons  who  were  to  aid  in  executing  this 
design,  that  at  length  the  confessor  of  M.  de 
la  Dauversiere,  after  having  for  a  long  time 
treated  the  project  as  wild  and  impracticable, 
thought  that  he  ought  to  let  him  go  to  Paris, 
to  see  if  Providence  would  present  him  with 


22 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


any  opportunity  of  carrying  out  tliis  so  ex- 
traordinary enterprise. 

Arrived  in  the  capital,  M.  de  la  Dauver- 
siere  went  to  present  himself  to  the  minister, 
the  Keeper  of  the  Crown  Seals,  who  resided 
at  Moudon,  and  in  the  gallery  of  the  castle 
met  Mr.   Olier.      These  two  men  were  not 
acquainted,  had  never  seen  each  other,  and 
had  never  had  the  slightest  intercourse  one 
with  the  other.    Impelled  by  a  Divine  inspi- 
ration, they  meet  like  two  friends  who  had 
been  long  separated,  and  embrace  one  another 
with  the  warmest  affection,   as  though  their 
hearts  were  one ;  they  salute  each  other  by 
name,  as  we  read  of  St.  Domiuick  and  St. 
Francis  of   Assissium.    Mr.   Olier  congratu- 
lates M.  de  la  Dauversi^re  on  the  cause  of 
his  journey,  and  placing  in  his  hands  a  roll 
of   one  hundred  pounds  in  gold  [about  five 
hundred  dollars],  he  said:    "Sir,  I  want  to 
have  a  share  in  the  work ;  I  know  your  mten- 
tiou,  and  am  going  to  recommend  it  to  God." 
Next   day,  Mr.  OUer    celebrated   the    Holy 


i.;;^^**.!^-;;'.-,'-'*''-'^'^*'^^'^*^*'**'''^'"*'^^ 


/ 


iEPH. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


23 


out  tiiis  so  ex- 

de  la  Daiiver- 
to  the  luiuister, 
ials,  who  resided 
ry  of  the  castle 
)  men  wcic  uot 
each  other,  aud 
;  hitcicourse  one 
y  a  Divhie  inspi- 
fiieuds  who  had 
brace  oue  another 

as  though  their 
te  each  other  by 
;)oiuiuick  and  St. 
•.   Olier  cougratu- 
)  on  the  cause  of 
X  his  hands  a  roll 
1  gold  [about  five 
:    "Sir,  I  want  to 
[  know  your  inten- 
mmend  it  to  God." 
ebrated   the    Holy 


Mass,  at  which  M.  de  la  Dauversi^re  received 
communion.  After  the  thanksgiving  both  re- 
tired to  the  park  of  the  castle,  and  comnm- 
nicated  to  each  other  the  plans  they  had 
formed  to  promote  the  glory  of  God  in  the 
island  of  Montreal.  Their  conversation  last- 
ed three  hours.  It  was  clearly  ascertained 
that  both  had  received  the  same  lights,  the 
same  orders,  and  proposed  the  same  means 
to  be  taken  for  insuring  success.  Mr.  Olier 
formed  a  company  of  persons  of  great  piety, 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Company  of 
Our  Lady  of  Montreal,  most  of  them  very 
wealthy,  all  called  by  God  to  contribute,  by 
their  prayers  or  their  donations,  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  work.  Some  time  after  he  assem- 
bled all  the  members,  and  introduced  M.  de 
la  Dauversi^re,  who  stated,  with  his  wonted 
simplicity,  the  communications  and  orders 
he  had  received  from  God  concerning  this 
new  settlement.  How  hazardous  soever  such 
an  enterprise  might  appear,  the  words  of  M.  • 
de  la  Dauversi^re,  although   simple  and  un- 


:^.-**CS^i'i*'fVW»:^«i***" 


24 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Btudied,  founcl  an  echo  in  those  hearts  so 
well  aisposed.'  All  were  fully  convinced  of 
his  mission,  and  readily  opened  their  purses, 
deeming  themselves  happy  in  being  chosen 
to  contribute  to  the  execution  of  a  design 
8o  advantageous  for  the  glory  of  God  and 
the  good  of  His  Church. 

The  first  steps  they  took  was  to  secure 
the  island  of  Montreal.    M.  de  Lauson,  who 
had  received  it  from  the  great  Canada  Com- 
pany, made  it  over  to  them  on  easy  terms, 
renouncing  his  first  intentions,  and  making 
a  sacrifice   of    his  personal  interests.      The 
.     royal  authority  failed  not  soon  to  ratify  this 
transfer;  so  that  the  action  of   Providence 
was  made  manifest,  contrary  to  all  human 

foresight. 

In  receiving  the  ownership  and  dominion 
of  the  island,  the  Associates  pledged  them- 
selves to  found  a  colony  therein,  and  to 
establish  three  communities:  First,  a  semi- 
nary of  ecclesiastics,  ten  or  twelve  in  .num- 
ber, destined  for  the  ministry  of  the  altar, 


the  pr€ 

of  con 

island, 

Olid,  a 

the  ed 

for  th( 

these 

agreen 

goodiif 

new  d 

and  cl 

furthei 

and  tl 

abroac 

iugs,  a 

nience 

savage 

The 

bound 

Josep! 

of  th( 

this  I 

mal  ii 


". iU.%:i.>^.  ■;7ji^^'--'-^"h'-^-'>' 


ri^  ■>?»Sl^*4£l"»«i'i^!i^"Sv^^ 


JSEPH. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


25 


those  hearts  so 
Uy  convinceil  of 
uetl  their  purses, 
iu  being  chosen 
tiou  of  a  design 
lory  of   God  and 

»k  was  to  secure 
.  de  Lauson,  who 
reat  Canada  Com- 
m  on  easy  terras, 
;ions,  and  making 
il  interests.      Tlie 
soon  to  ratify  this 
ion  of    Providence 
•ary  to  all  human 

ship  and  dominion 
ates  pledged  them- 
ly  therein,  and  to 
ies :  First,  a  semi- 
or  twelve  in  .num- 
nistry  of  the  altar, 


the  preaching  of  the  Holy  Gospel,  the  work 
of   converting   the  savage   aborigines  of   the 
island,  and  to  keep  a  school  for  boys ;   sec- 
ond, a  community  of   religious  teachers   for 
tlie  education  of  girls ;  and,  third,  a  hospital 
for  the   service  of  the  sick.     By  means  of 
these    measures,   say   they  in    their    Act   of 
agreement,  the  Associates  hope,  through  the 
goodness  of  God,  to  see,  in  a  little  time,  a 
new  church,  which  shall   inutate  the  purity 
and  charity  >i  the  primitive  Church.     They 
furthermore  hope  that  in  after  years    they 
and  their  successors  may  be  able  to  spread 
abroad  over  the  country,  to  erect  new  dwell- 
ings, as  much  to  contribute  to  public  conve- 
nience as  to  facilitate  the  conversion  of  the 

savages. 

The  three  communities  here  mentioned 
bound  themselves  to  honor  Jesus,  Mary,  and 
Joseph,  each  one  to  partake  of  the  spirit 
of  their  august  patrons,  to  imbue  therewith 
this  new  Church.  From  that  time  the  for- 
mal intention  of  the  Associates  was  to  con- 


■._j^  .^.p69j5f!i.i"««-j^*i"^- 


26 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


fide  the  direction  of  the  future  Hospital  to 
the    religious  whom  M.   de    la  Dauversiore 
would  establish  in  honor  of  St.  Joseph ;  the 
management  of  the  Seminary  to  Mr.  Olier, 
who  began,  shortly  after,  the  foundation  of 
the  Company  so  well  known  in  France  nnder 
the  name  of  St.  Sulpice;   and,  finally,  they 
hoped  to  give  in  charge  the  community  of 
teachers    to    the    person    whom    Providence 
might  have  chosen  for  that  purpose.     This 
was   Sister  Bourgeoys,  specially  destined  to 
make   the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  honored  in 
the  colony  of  Montreal.    She  was  the  foun- 
dress, in  Canada,  of  the  Congregation  of  Our 
Lady  of  Montreal. 

Who  does  not  admire  the  action  of  Provi- 
dence in  the  creation  of  these  various  estab- 
lishments? 


But  yc 

The; 

And  8 

The 


-.f  *:^i  ^■.n'.*Vi-i:=i»*f<*.-~* 


.fm^j^^^ms^-^^-M^'^^-^mt-^^-'^'^'^'*^  ■ 


Joseph. 

iiture  Hospital  to 
e  la  Dauversiore 
)f  St.  Joseph  ;  the 
lary  to  Mr.  Olier, 
the  foundation  of 
n  in  France  under 

and,  finally,  they 
the  community  of 
whom  Providence 
lat  purpose.  This 
ecially  destined  to 

Mary  honored  in 
She  was  the  foun- 
iongregation  of  Our 

the  action  of  Provi- 
these  various  estab- 


.^ 


III. 

TEE  ROD  IN  BLOSSOM. 

ilROUND  the  sacred   ark  the   sons  ot 
Juda  stand, 
Sending  to  Heaven  above  their  hum- 
ble, fervent  prayer ; 
What   hath   brought    unto    the   temple   the   young 
men  of  the  land, 
And  wherefore  in  each  hand  a  wither'd  branch 
and  bare? 

But  yester  eve,  with  joyous,  hopeful  heart. 

They  laid  upon  the  altar  each  dry  and  mystic  rod  ; 
And  sadly  now  they  gaze,  and  their  fondest  hopes 
depart — 
The  branches  still  are  leafless,  no  change  hath 
come  from  God  1 

Behold  them  once  again  praying  the  Lord  Most 
High; 
But  one,  before  unseen,  has  join'd  their  band — 


4j**«ii«at»-si«»i» 


28 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph, 


One  in  whose  calm  and  brightly-beaming  eye 
Are  imaged  virtues  heroic  and  grand. 

Lofty  is  his  brow,  majestic  and  serene  ; 

He,  too,  doth  in  his  hand  a  dry  branch  bear, 
Seeming  the  while  amazed  that  he  hath  been 

Call'd  to  contest  a  prize  so  passing  rare. 

Humble  he  is,  although  of  lineage  high. 
Deeming  himself,  of  all,  the  least  and  last. 

And  matchless  pure  in  heart,  wherefore  th'  all-see- 
ing Eye 
Hath  been  on  him  with  special  favor  cast. 

"Joseph,   draw  nearl"  from    God   the   high-priest 
speaks. 

And  Joseph,  in  his  turn,  lays  down  his  rod. 
Oh,  wondrous  prodigy  !  full  soon  it  breaks 

Forth  into  leaves  and  flow'rs-all  praise  to  God ! 

O  Joseph,  son  of  David  !  hail,  all  hail ! 

Thou  art  the  favor'd  one,  the  Virgin  thine— 
The  Virgin  whose  bright  name  shall  never  pale,    . 

Who  crushes  Satan's  head  with  power  divine  ! 


Thine  is 

That 

1 

The  Lo 
To  g 

Favor'd 
Brigl 

Comes 
Recc 


».,,   s,v..i3«JCW*<^«*'-4*S«(***«^'-''=-^-^***'''''"  "*' 


08EPH. 

■beaming  eye 
1  grand. 

serene  ; 

Jry  brancli  beor, 
he  hath  bceu 
passing  rare. 

age  high, 
east  and  last, 
wherefore  tli'  all-see- 

;ial  favor  cast. 

God   the   high-priest 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


29 


Thine  is  that  lily  fair,  that  spotless  dove. 

That  fragrant    flower    that    bloouVd  for  Edcns 
bow'rs, 

The  Lord  hath  chosen  thee,  with  special  love. 
To  guard  His  fairest  one  of  all  earth's  flow'rs  1 

Pavor'd  art  thou,  and  lo  I  thy  destined  bride, 
Bri.'ht  as  the  stars  and  more  than  heavenly  pure, 

Comer  forth,  the  Lord  with  her,  and  at  thy  side 
Receives  the  ring  that  makes  the  compact  sure. 

Hail  then,  chaste  spouse  of  Mary,  hail,  thrice  haU  I 
For  Heaven,  in  giving  her  a  spouse  like  thee, 

So  pure,  so  God-like,  surely  will  not  fail 
To  make  thee  our  Protector,  too,  to  be  ! 


's  down  his  rod. 

on  it  breaks 

•s — all  praise  to  God  ! 

all  hail ! 

;he  Virgin  thine — 
e  shall  never  pale,    . 
with  power  divine  ! 


lUiW  ivWUfeV^i™* 


IV. 


THE  FIRST  GHUISTMAS  NTOHT. 


IN    the  year  of  the  world  4004,  on 
the    24th    of    Decomber,    an   old 
man   and   a  young  woman  were 
journeying    towards    the    cily  ui 
Bethlehem,  in   Judea.      The  young  woraat. 
beautiful    beyond  conception,   and    mspmng 
virtue  by  her  chaste  and  modest  look,  was 
seated  on  the  back  of  an  ass  which  the  old 
man  led  by  the  bridle.    This  old  man,  whose 
mien  was  at  once  mild  and  venerable,  turned 
often  to  see  whether  his  young  companion 
wanted  anything,  trying,  at  the  same  time, 
to  lead  the  animal  over  the  smoothest  gi'ound, 
so  as  to  avoid  any  shock. 

"I  much  fear,"  said  he,  urging  the  beast 
to  quicken  its  pace;  "I  much  fear  that  we 
shall  reach  Bethlehem  too  late  to  procure 
lodging  for  the  night.    For  me,  it  is  of  small 


-'UraKNf^S"'''^''" 


«S;.satl»»«iSSV»^» 


,_jy5j*^;.-rJ5.a,slt--AiaSfe'->-U*V>'^'- 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


81 


>^.' 


[AS  mOHT. 

,e  workl  4004,  on 
>ecomber,    an   old 
ang  woman  were 
arcls    the    cily  ui 
le  young  woniai, 
an,   and    inspiring 
modest  look,  was 
ass  which  the  old 
liis  old  man,  whose 
1  venerable,  tnrned 

y«^ung  companion 
at  the  same  time, 

smoothest  ground, 

»,  urging  the  beast 
much  fear  that  we 
30  late  to  procure 
3r  me,  it  is  of  small 


account;   but  for  theo,  who    hast  so  much 

need  of  rest!" 

"Have  confidince,  father!"  h-aid  the  young 
woman  ui  a  tone  of  meek  re8i},'nation,  "  God 
will  provide  for  us."  And  the  old  man,  to 
whom  these  simple  words  seemed  to  give 
now  strength,  went  on  his  way  praying. 

And  the  shades  of  evening  were  falling  on 
the  earth  ;  and  the  moon  was  already  shining 
in  mild  radiance  in  the  firmament  above,  as 
though  to  invite  the  poor  pilgrims  to  rest, 
when  they  reached  the  gates  of  the  city. 
»  *  *  *  * 

All  denoted  one  of  those  clear,  cold  winter 
nights  which  are  so  much  the  harder  on  peo- 
ple in  the  East,  because  they  are  less  accus- 
tomed to  them.  What  the  old  man  had  fore- 
seen came  to  pass.  The  inns  were  full  of 
travellers,  brought  thither  for  enrollment  by 
an  edict  of  Csesar  Augustus.  Nowhere  was 
there  place  for  the  last  arrivals. 

Knock  at  what  door  he  would,  how  touch- 
ing soever  his  prayers  and  supplications,  he 


J  J:-"->ii,-3^.-"*^***"V*''&*'''* ' 


32 


Legends  of  St.  Jomru. 


found  himflclf.  lionvH  aftor.  h.ic\  and  dojoctccl, 
Htm  on  tho  road  lio  had  h..  oft.m  travcwod, 
aeekinR  sholtor,  at  least  for  his  conipanion. 

And  seeing  nothinfi,  tho  old  man  lamented. 
And  his  young  companion,  as  it  were,  indif- 
ferent to  all  the  rebnfls  and  refusals  thoy  had 
met,  with  tho  Psalmist,  raised  her  eyes  and 
her  heart  to  the  holy  mountains. 

All  at  onco  she  said ;  "  Father,  bo  not  dis- 
couraged;    the    people    whoso    hardness    of 
heart  so  afflicts  you,  know  lis  not.    ...    I 
"  alone  am  the  cause  of  what  has  happened, 
since  it  is  for  me,  and  tho  child  I  bear  in  my 
womb,  that  you  tarried  by  tho  way.    .    .   . 
Listen,  now,  to  what  I  am  about  to  say.    But 
a  little  way  from  here  I  remarked,  on  onr 
first  entering  into  the  city,  a  deserted  stable  ; 
that  may  be  the  shelter  to  which  Providenco 
calls  us;   let  us  go  thither."    The  old  man 
wiping  away   a  tear,   stUl  hesitated.     "God 
wills  it  so,  my  father,"  she  meekly  added. 
•         #  *■  *  •  • 


The 
jugged 
tho  inl 
man,  i 
spouse 
on  hei 
with  81 
as  th< 
flight, 


)8Erii. 

id  and  dnjcctod, 

ottim  travoreod, 
Ills  compftnion. 

»  * 

il  man  lanionted. 
[VH  it  were,  indif- 
rcfnsals  tlioy  had 
icd  her  eyes  and 
taina. 

ither,  bo  not  dis- 
ose  hardness  of 
ns  not.  ...  I 
at  has  happened, 
•hild  I  bear  in  my 

the  way.    .    .   . 
ibout  to  say.    But 
remarked,  on  our 
ft  deserted  stable ; 

which  Providence 
r."    The  old  man 

hesitated.     "  God 
meekly  added. 


Legends  of  St.  .ToHEru. 


B3 


The  stable  to  wliich  thoy  retired  was 
roughly  hewn  out  of  the  rock,  and  had  been 
loii^'  deserted.  That  night  two  animals,  an 
ox  and  an  ass,  were  niieUeri'd  theni,  brought 
fioni  a  neighboring  inn  because  of  the  throng 
ill  the  city.  To  this  fortunate  circumstance 
the  old  nuiu  and  his  compaiiicm  were  iu- 
(It'bted  for  some  fresh  straw  which  tlit^y 
found  in  the  cave. 

*  *  *  *  * 

The    moonbeams,  penetrating  through  the 
jugged  cliffs  at  the  entrance,  partially  lit  up 
the  interior  of   the  grotto.     Whilst  the   old 
man,  mindful  of   the  wants  of   his  youthful 
spouse,  prepared   a  couch   for  her,   she  fell 
on  her  knees,   and    prayed  so  silently   and 
with  so  little  outward  motion,  tliat  it  seemed 
as    though  lier    soul,   taking  a    heavenward 
flight,  had  left  there  only  a  mortal  covering. 
***** 
But    when    she    had    prayed,    the    young 
woman  proceeded  to  unfold  some  clothes  of 
a  coarse  texture,  but  exquisitely  clean,  which 


84 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


she  had  brought  with  her,  and  which,  with 
sweet  forethought,  she  had  placed  in  her 
bosom  to  keep  them  warm. 

The  old  man  lool«d  on  with  respectful 
attention,  "is  the  happy  moment,  then, 
come?"  said  he  at  length.  "What!  in  this 
lonely  stable!  la  the  company  of  these  ani- 
mals?" 

"Canst  thou  wonder?"  replied  the  young 

wife.     "  Ah !  what  is  this  new  abasement  for 

the  Word  mmie  Flesh,  since  He  has  deigned 

to  come  down  and  rest  in  my  womb !     Oh, 

incomprehensible  mystery  of  the  love  of  the 

Creator  for    the  creature!      To    dwell  with 

men,  God  himself  did  not  disdain  to  clothe 

Himself  with   human   nature,   and   it    is    in 

poverty  He  chooses  to  be  born,  because  He 

comes  to  ennoble,  to  save,  to  .elevate    the 

poor ! " 

At  these  words  the  old  man  became  more 
collected.     "And  then,  Mary,  dost  thou  not 

suffer  ?  " 

"Suffer,  my  father?    I  suffer!    Never  has 


^ 

zlii 
An 
a  ] 

< 

lei 


r.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


36 


ler,  and  which,  with 
had  placed  in  her 
L'm. 

on  with  respectful 
ippy  moment,  then, 
th.  "What!  in  this 
mpany  of  these  ani- 

>"  replied  the  young 
is  new  abasement  for 
riuce  He  has  deigned 
t  in  my  womb!     Oh, 
sry  of  the  love  of  the 
ire!      To    dwell  with 
not  disdain  to  clothe 
nature,   and   it    is    in 
be  born,  because  He 
save,  to  -elevate    the 

old  man  became  more 
1,  Mary,  dost  thou  not 

I  suffer!    Never  has 


the  fruit  of  benediction  conceived  in  my 
womb,  the  mysterious  work  of  the  Divine 
Spirit,  caused  me  the  least  pain.  Doubtless 
He  smiles  at  this  moment,  so  long  desired, 
when  His  holy  humanity  is  going,  by  its  first 
sufferings,  to    begin  the   work  of    Eedemp- 

tion." 

"Oh,  yes!"    she  added,  rising,  "He  m- 
Hames   my  heart;    I  am  already  inundated 
with  the  purest  delight ;  I  no  longer  live,  it 
is  Jesus  who  hvcth  in  me!     He  is  mine,  I 
am  His.    A  sweet  ecstasy  takes  possession 
of  my  being.    My  heart  no  longer  feels  its 
human   life.      Kneel!    the  prodigy  is  being 
wrought;  I  am  the  Mother  of  my  God!" 
***** 
While  she  spoke  thus  a  strong  and  daz- 
zling light    filled    the  stable  of   Bethlehem. 
And    the  Virgin  of   Isaiah  disappeared  for 
a  moment  from  mortal  sight. 

Joseph,  humbly  prostrate,  adored   in   si- 
lence. 


86 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


The  night  had  reached  the  middle  of  its 
course ;  the  moment  of  majestic  silence  iu 
nature,  the  solemn  and  ever  mysterious  hour 
marked  out  by  the  Prophets  for  the  birth 
of  the  promised  Deliverer. 

*  *  *  #  * 

And  the  light  gi'adually  faded. 

And  Joseph,  in  expectation  of  the  great 
prodigy,  his  heart  inflamed  with  all  the 
ardor  of  the  desires  of  the  Patriarchs  and 
Prophets,  raised  his  eyes.  .  .  . 

And  the  Virgin  Mother  api^eared  in  a  re- 
splendent cloud,  surrounded  by  Angels,  hold- 
ing out  to  him  the  fairest  Child  that  earth 
had  ever  seen,  the  First-Born  amongst  men, 
the  Saviour  of  the  world,  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  the  Mighty  God — a  little  Babe ! 

His  heart  glowed  with  faith  and  love. 
And  as  he  bowed  down  to  adore,  and  con- 
template, in  his  turn,  mute  with  awe  and 
admiration,  the  Child  held  out  His  hands 
so  graciously  to  him  that  lie  was  attracted 
towards  Him,  as  it  were,  in  spite  of  himself  -, 


and  ben 
arms  Hii 
and  whc 
tain! 

And  \ 
by  sighi 
deUghte* 
again  in 

And  \ 
disappei 
sumcd 
a  low  : 
immacu 
was  Jes 

Then 
swaddh 
ished  p 
Him  in 

And 
from  1 


-^?)S^^^3ISM^^ss. 


«Jfef3*w<«» 


Joseph. 

lie  middle  of  its 
ajestic  silence  in 
I*  mysterious  hour 
ets  for  the  birth 


aded. 

ion  of  the  great 
ed  with  all  the 
e  Patriarchs  and 

•     • 

ippeared  in  a  re- 
,  by  Angels,  hold- 
Child  that  earth 
>rn  amongst  men, 
1,  the  Prince  of 
little  Babe ! 

faith  and  love. 
)  adore,  and  con- 
ie  with  awe  and 
I  out  His  hands 
lie  was  attracted 

spite  of  himself  j 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


37 


and  bending  lovingly  down,  received  in  his 
arms  Him  whose  glory  the  heavens  proclaim, 
and  whom  the  whole  universe  cannot  con- 
tain! 

♦  »  »  »  » 

And  when  he  had  wholly  satiated  himself 
by  sight  and  by  touch,  clasping  the  Babe 
delightedly  in  his  arms,  Joseph  placed  Jesus 
again  in  his  Mother's  arms. 

«  *  »  *  * 

And  the  cloud  vanished.  And  the  Angels 
disappeared.  And  the  Child's  abode  re- 
sumed its  former  aspect.  Then  was  heard 
a  low  moaning  cry.  It  was  Jesus,  whose 
immaculate  flesh  began  to  feel  the  cold;  it 
was  Jesus  beginning  His  Saviour-life. 
»  «  «  *  * 

Then  the  Virgin  wrapped  the  Child  in 
swaddling-clothes,  and  when  Joseph  had  fin- 
ished preparing  the  crib,  weeping,  they  laici 
Him  in  it. 

And  Jesus  still  cried.  An  Angel  descended 
from  heaven,  bearing  a  cup,  which  he  put 


88 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


^t:^^ 


to   the   lips   of   the  ChUd,  murmuring   the 
name  of  Gethsemane. 

And  the  Virgin  shuddered.  .  .  . 

Then  the  Angel  disappeared,  brnshing  with 
his  wing,  as  he  passed,  the  sleeping  animak 

And  the  shepherds,  coming  to  the  sta- 
ble directed  by  the  Angels,  saw  the  Child, 
warmed  by  the  breath  of  the  ox  and  the 
ass,  who  were  already  submissive  to  the 
caresses  of  Mary  and  Joseph. 


her  mi 

fair  ai 

of  her 

them  i 

The 

ruined 

just  w 

a  situ 

keep 

losing 

a  deal 

nion, 

famil] 


OSEPH. 


murmuring 


the 


1«     •     •     • 

red,  bnislung  with 
sleeping  aiiimak 
ling  to  the  sta- 
Is,  saw  the  Child, 
'  the  ox  and  the 
mbmissive  to  the 
sph. 


V. 

DUTY  BEFOIiE  ALL. 

jlFTER  great  reverses  of  fortnne 
and  long  years  of  tribulation, 
borne  with  trae  maternal  cour- 
age, Madame  C had  seen 

her  misfortunes  crowned  by  the  loss  of  two 
fair  and  promising  children,  and,  finally,  that 
of  her  husband,  who,  in  a  little,  time,  followed 
them  to  the  grave. 

The  sorrows  and  privations  which  had 
ruined  the  father's  health  snatched  him  away 
just  when  he  was  on  the  point  of  obtaining 
a  situation  that  would  have  enabled  him  to 
keep  his  family  at  least  above  want.  In 
losing  him,  his  widow  had  not  only  to  lament 
a  dear  and  constant  friend,  a  faithful  compa- 
nion, but  also  the  principal  support  of  her 
family. 


^,pa,aBAi««««S31ill»!»«»«»i^«''>*»^ 


ifu^  .^J^*rt»^^^^^i*'^**^^^'^^^*' ^ 


40 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


t 

This  family,  consisting  still  of  four  chil- 
dren, hftJ  thenceforth  no  other  sui^port  than 
two  young  sons,  the  eUlest  of  whom  hiul  jnst 
reacheil  his  twentieth  year.     The  remunera- 
tion   they  received    for  their  work  was    so 
small    that   it   promised    but   little  relief   to 
the    fanjily,   and,  notwithstanding    all    their 
devotedness,    they    could    not    do    much    to 
assist  their  mother,  especially  as  their  father 
had  left  some  debts.    To  satisfy  the  credit- 
ors, some  of  whom  were  very  pressing,  and 
provide  the  necessaries  of  life  for  her  chil- 
dren, so  as  to  keep  them  from  sinking  like 
their  father,  were  very  difficult  tasks  for  the 
poor   widow.      She    had    vainly   endeavored 
to  procure  employment  for  herself ;  and  her 
health,  shattered  by  this  long  train  of  mis- 
fortunes, scarcely  enabled  her  to  work,  even 
if  she  had  it  to  do. 

The  eldest  of  her  daughtei-s  was  just  six- 
teen ;  she  was  strong,  well  formed,  discreet, 
modest,  and  amiable.  The  indigent  circum- 
stances   of    the    family  had    prevented    her 


from  r 
rents  a: 
but  stil 

The 
vented 
bad  mi 
necessa 
there  m 
cook,  i 
unless 
which 
they  hi 

The 
terest  : 
her  lea 
to  find 
exposii 
who  hj 
When 
found, 
beyond 
friends 
teachii 


)8EPH. 

ill  of  four  chil- 
ler su]iport  tliau 
[  -whom  liiul  just 

The  reinunera- 
ir  work  Avas    so 
t   little  relief   to 
amling    all    their 
lot    do    much    to 
ly  as  their  father 
latisfy  the  credit- 
ery  pressing,  and 
life  for  her  chil- 
froni  sinking  like 
cnlt  tasks  for  the 
'ainly   endeavored 

herself;  and  her 
long  train  of  mis- 
her  to  work,  even 

itei-s  was  jnst  six- 
1  formed,  discreet, 
e  indigent  circum- 
Lul    prevented    her 


Legends  of  St.  Josepu. 


41 


from  receiving  a  complete  education;  pa- 
rents and  friends  had,  by  turns,  lent  a  hand, 
but  still  her  education  was  very  deficient. 

The  same  circumstances  which  had  pre- 
vented Helen  from  learning  much  at  school 
had  made  her  a  good  housekeeper,  the  most 
necessary  of  all  qualities  in  a  woman.  Only, 
there  was  little  use  in  her  knowing  how  to 
cook,  if  there  was  nothing  to  be  cooked, 
unless  it  might  be  stone  soup,  the  story  of 
which  I  ahull  not  tell  my  readers,  supposing 
they  have  all  heard  of  it. 

The  friends  of  the  family  who  took  an  in- 
terest in  Helen  urged  her  mother  to  have 
her  learn  some  trade ;  but  it  was  not  so  easy 
to  find  an  opportunity  of  doing  so  without 
exposing  the  innocence  of  the  young  girl, 
who  had  never  been  away  from  her  mother. 
When  such  an  opportunity  was  at  length 
found,  the  conditions  were  such  that  it  was 
beyond  the  reach  of  Helen's  mother  and  her 
friends.  The  girl's  want  of  instruction  put 
teaching,  the  most  honorable  of  all  careers, 


.*^(lteWJ-»«%/rt»»^l-*«Mf«l#4(A|■arB^ 


._j^j(^-5j3R{^ajBUBW*ai5ir**:**^=>*''**^***w' 


42 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


out  of  the  question,  and.  on  the  other  hand, 
apprenticeship    to    any  trade  was    open    to 
many  objections.     Some  respectable  women 
offered  to  teach  Helen  their  own  busmesa. 
Bome    flower-making,    others    dress-making 
others  plain  sewing;  but  none  of  them  could 
lodge  her,  and  they  lived  so  far  away  that 
the   young  apprentice  would   have    had    to 
go  through   all  Paris  morning  and  evening. 
Moreover,  wlien   a  fee  could  not    be    paid, 
Helen  would  have  had  to  work  several  years 
without  any  pay.  which  did  not  suit  a  poor 
famUy  that  stood  in  urgent  need  of   some 
immediate  assistance. 

In  this  indescribable  embarrassment,  the 

poor  mother  conceived  the   happy  thought 

of  having  recourse  to  St.  Joseph,  the  patron 

of    and  provider  for  famiUes.    Troubled  as 

she  was.  she  did  not  even  think  of  making 

a  Novena  to  him ;  but  she  Uuo  or  three  tims 

addressed  him  in  earnest  supplication,  gomg 

from  the  heart-and  the  hoped-for  aid  was 

not  long  in  coming.    A  good  situation  in  a 


)8ErH. 

the  other  hand, 
e  was    open    to 
ipectable  women 
ir  own  bnsiness, 
8    dress- making, 
ne  of  them  could 
JO  far  away  that 
Id   have    had    to 
ing  and  evening, 
lid  not    be    paid, 
rork  several  years 
1  not  suit  a  poor 
at  need  of   some 

nbarraosment,  the 
IB  happy  thought 
Joseph,  the  patron 
lies.  Troubled  as 
1  think  of  making 

Uvo  or  three  tirms 
supplication,  going 

hoped-for  aid  was 
'ood  situation  in  a 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


48 


respectable  mercantile  house  was  unexpect- 
edly offered  to  her  daughter,  with  eight  hun- 
dred francs  a  year,  and  board  besides,  in  a 
locaUty  not  far  from  her  mother's  house,  so 
that  she  was  able  to  go  home  in  the  even- 
ing, and  had,  moreover,  Sundays  and  holy 
days  to  herself. 

This    unhoped-for  position,  for  so  young 
a  person,  was  accepted,  as  may  be  supposed, 
with  great  joy,  although  not  without  anxiety; 
for  was  it  certain  that  Helen  would  be  able 
to  discharge    duties  that   required   practice 
and  experience?    But  does  St.  Joseph  ever 
leave  his  work  imfinished  ?    The  timid  girl 
displayed   in  her  new  and  strange  position 
a  steadiness  and  abUity  that  could  scarcely 
be  expected.    She  made  herself  equally  es- 
teemed by  her  employers,  beloved   by  her 
companions,    and   respected    by    the    clerks 
employed  in  the  house. 

It  would  have  been  almost  too  much  if  this 
auspicious  beginning  had  not  been  stamped 
with  the  seal  of  trialL  Helen  had  to  inaugu- 


44 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


rate  her  new  position  by   a  little   sacrifice. 
The  mother  of  her  chief  employer,  a  woman 
of   austere  piety,  accustomed  to  see  around 
her  only  persons  of   mature  age,  thought  it 
her  duty  to  object  to  Helen's  way  of  arrang- 
ing her  hair.     Although  very  plain  and  sim- 
ple in  Helen's  case,  yet  being  in  accordance 
with   the  prevailing  style,   it    jarred  on  the 
habits  and    notions  of    the  worthy  nuitron, 
who  insisted    on  a  change.      Those  of   my 
readers  who  have  long  renounced  the  world 
may  not  appreciate  the  full  value  of  the  sac- 
rifice required  of  her ;  but  if  any  young  girl 
should  read  this,  or  any  one  who  romenibers 
having  been  young,  they  will  admit  that  the 
self-forgetfulness  which  consists  in  adoi)ting 
through  obedience  a  fashion  that  is  out  of 
date,  or  any  way  ridicidous,  is  one  of  the 
most  painful  sacrifices  that  can  be  imposed 
on  a  woman  who  has  not  bid  adieu  to  the 
illusions  of  life. 

Would  you  have  done  it,  dear  Julia,  you 
who  know  so  well  how  to  arrange  your  fair 


SEPH. 

little  saorifioe. 
)loycr,  u  woman 
I  to  see  around 

age,  thought  it 
3  way  of  arrang- 
'  j>lain  anil  sim- 
ig  in  accoi'dance 
;    jiineil   on  the 

worthy  matron, 

Those  of  my 

unced  the  world 

iralue  of  the  sac- 

f  any  young  girl 

wlio  romenibers 
1  admit  that  the 
dsts  in  adopting 
n  that  is  out  of 
3,  is  one  of  the 

can  be  imposed 
bid  adieu  to  the 

,  dear  Julia,  you 
arrange  your  fair 


Legends  or  St.  Joseph. 


4B 


tresses  in  the  way  most  becoming  to  your 
fresh,  blooming  face?  Would  you  have  done 
it  at  sixteen,  Emily,  you  whose  brow  has 
now  no  other  ornament  than  the  white  baud 
of  the  religious? 

Amongst  the  gay  companions  with  whom 
Helen  went  on  Sunday,  more  than  one  said 
to  Helen:   "It  is  not  I  that  would  consent 
to  be   drilled  after  that  fashion.      I  would 
rather  give  up  the  situation  than  nuike  my- 
self   so  dowdy  as  you  do!"     We  will  not 
take  upon  us  to  say  that  Helen  did  not  say 
something   of    the  kind  to  herself,  but  the 
sense   of  duty  very  soon  regained  the  mas- 
tery, and  God  and  St.  Joseph  helpuig,  she 
was  able  to  resist  these  tempting  suggostions 
and  submit  to  make  the  required  sacrifice. 

Let  us  add  that  she  looked  none  the  worse 
for  it.  Is  not  virginal  modesty  the  fairest 
ornament?  Adorned,  especially,  with  an  ex- 
cellent reputation,  Helen  made  herself  so 
remarkable  by  her  faithful  discharge  of  her 
duty,  and  her  general  conduct,  that  the  rela- 


^**i^..»*^W«?*«i'i»'**'«'^~*«**********^'^' 


^^^l>»tV*»W 


46 


Leqendb  op  St.  Jobeph. 


lives  ami  frioiulH,  long  projndiccd  against  her, 
began  to  hco  their  error  and  make  advances 
towards  the  renewal  of  friendly  relations, 
which  wag  very  agreeable  and  even  advan- 
t«g(K)U-.  to  the  family,  and  sunily  very  honor- 
able to  the  yonng  girl,  who  had  succoeded 
in  (overcoming  nnjnst  prejudices  and  reviving 
a  well-merited  interest  in  her  and  hers. 

This  littlo  btory  being  true,  is  simple.  Had 
it  been  fiction,  it  wonld,  doubthiss,  have  been 
more  embellished  with  incidents.  May  it 
excite  incMiased  confidence  in  that  revered 
patronage  under  which  every  family  ought 
to  take  shelter. 


)BEpn. 

iced  against  her, 
1  muko  atlvances 
ieniUy  relations, 
nd   even   advan- 
mily  very  honor- 
)  had   Buccoeded 
ices  and  reviving 
ir  and  hers. 
,  is  simple.     Had 
btloHS,  luive  been 
jidents.     May  it 
in  that  revered 
n-y  family  ought 


VI. 

THE  VALVE  OF  A  MASS. 

[EFOllE  going  to  seek  eni])l()yment 
for  the  day,  a  poor  working-man 
named  Joseph  Willielin,  went  yv<^- 
ularly  to  say  his  prayers  and  hear 
Mass  in  the  neighboring  church.  One  morn- 
ing he  rose  earUer  than  usual,  and,  contrary 
to  his  pious  custom,  went  to  look  for  work 
without  performing  his  devotions. 

He  soon  found  that,  with  reasonable  exer- 
tion on  his  own  part,  it  was  better  to  count 
on  a  fatherly  Providence  than  on  mere  hu- 
man prudence.  Like  himself,  a  crowd  of  men 
of  all  trades  were  there  waiting  for  employ- 
ment; but  no  one  came  to  offer  them  work. 
"What  is  to  be  done?"  said  he  to  himself. 
His  heart,  in  accordance  with  his  faith,  dic- 
tated the  answer.    He  went  to  church,  said 


.  A*i!i  •"(i^V*"'" -"■  ~  ■'' 


^  »t^Jt»i.l!f<t-*«l!'/ 


48 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


his  prayers,  and  lieard  a  Mass.  He  did  not 
feel  the  time  passing,  wlale  kneeling  before 
the  Tabernacle,  and  when  he  returned  to  the 
square,  the  men,  and  those  who  had  come  to 
hire  them,  were  all  gone. 

Sad  and  dejected,  Joseph  Wilhelm  was 
slowly  returning  to  his  humble  dwelhng,  when 
he  perceived  coming  towards  him,  with  a 
frank,  good-natured  mien,  a  well-known  em- 
ployer of    working-people,  Master    Barnaby 

Zimmerman. 

This  wealthy  personage  was  not  precisely 
what  is  called  an  irreligious  man;    but  he 
had,  on  more  than  one  point,  and  especiaUy 
on  the  law  of  Sunday's  rest  and  the  obliga- 
tion of  hearing  Mass  on  that  day,  notions 
that  were  not  altogether  orthodox.    He  had 
even  been  known  to  say,  without  much  ap- 
pearance of  shame,  that    be  bad  neglected 
his  Easter  duty  that  yeais  and  also,  I  beheve, 
the    year    previous.    This    did    not   prevent 
him,  like    many   others   of   his   kind,  from 
bearing   the    title   of   an   honest   man,  and 


mo 


'.  Joseph. 

Mass.  He  did  not 
liile  kneeling  before 
1  he  returned  to  the 
se  who  had  come  to 

oseph  Wilhelm  was 
umble  dwelhng,  when 
owards  him,  with  a 
!n,  a  well-known  em- 
>le,  Master    Barnaby 

ge  was  not  precisely 
ligious  man;    but  he 
I  point,  and  especially 
}  rest  and  the  obliga- 
on  that  day,  notions 
er  orthodox.    He  had 
lay,  without  much  ap- 
lat    be  had  neglected 
}ais  and  also,  I  beUeve, 
Hiis    did    not   prevent 
rs    of   his    kind,  from 
an   honest   man,  and 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


49 


enjoying  the  esteem  of  all  his  fellow-towns- 
men. 

A  few  words  from  Joseph  made  the  worthy 
burgher  understand  the  cause  of  his  dejec- 
tion. 

"I  have  no  work  to  give  you,  my  good 
man,"  said  he.     "  I  have  all  the  men  I  want 
just  at  present.     But  where  were  you  while 
the  other  men  were  waiting  for  work?" 
"I  was  at  Mass." 

"At  Mass!  at  Mass!  It  is,  doubtless,  very 
good  to  go  to  Mass.  I  don't  deny  but  I  like 
that ;  but,  nevertheless,  my  man,  people  must 
live;  and  in  order  to  Uve,  one  must  work, 
when  one  hasn't  the  means  of  hviug  with- 
out it." 

"But,  master,  I  work  every  day,  all  the 
year  round,  except  Sundays  and  holy  days, 

only  to-day ' 

"Very  good!  You  love  the  church  and 
the  Mass,  I  see  that.  Well,  since  you  have 
nothing  to  do,  for  want  of  bettor  employ- 
ment, go  to  church;  hear  Mass,  and  pray 


...^.;it..--^T-v.---^--'i.^i:^v-^-''^^f**^**"'''*^^ 


60 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


for  me  cluring  the  time  you  would  have  been 
at  work  ;  and  when  evening  comes,  I  wdl  pay 
you  the  usual  price  for  your  day's  work. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"I  accept  your  offer,  with  gi-iititudo,"  an- 
swered AVilhelm,  with  a  low  bow.  And  off 
he  went  to  the  church,  where  he  faithfully 
fulfilled  his  engagement. 

Evening  being  come,  Joseph  betook  hira- 
self  to  the  burgher's  house,  where  he  duly 
received    twelve  sous,  the  usual  pay  for  a 
days  work,  and  also  a  loaf  of  bread. 

Wilhelm,  well  pleased,  was  retracing  his 
homeward  way,  praying  as  he  went,  when  he 
met  an  old  man  of  noble  and  majestic  mien, 
who  seemed  well  acquainted  with  all  the  m- 
cidents  of  the  day.     "Go  back,"  said  he   in 
a  grave,  commanding  voice,  "and  tell  that 
man  that  he  has  not  given  you  all  he  owes 
you;  and  that  if  he  does  not  add  something 
more  to  what  he  has  given  you,  it  will  be 

■worse  for  him." 

The  workman  did  not  dare  to  make  any 


objecti 


osEpn. 

would  have  been 
comes,  I  will  pay 
your  day's  work. 

?" 

th  griititudo,"  an- 
w  bow.  And  off 
here  he  faithfully 

seph  betook  him- 
se,  where  he  duly 
UBual  pay  for  a 
I  of  bread. 

was  retracing  his 
I  he  went,  when  he 
and  majestic  mien, 
;ed  with  all  the  in- 
,  back,"  said  he,  in 
ice,  "and  tell  that 
en  you  all  he  owes 

not  add  something 
iven  you,  it  will  he 

dare  to  make  any 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph 


»1 


objection,  and  deUvared  the  authoritative  mes- 
sage, not  without  great  embarrassment. 

A  slight  shiver  ran,  at  first,  throngh  the 
rich  man's    members.     But    he  speedily  re- 
covered himself,  thinking  it  was,  pei-haps,  a 
stratagem  of  the  pious  Avorkman,  in  order  to 
make  him  open  his  purse-strings.     "Ah  ha! 
my  good  friend,"  said  he,  good  humoredly, 
"the  appetite  grows  with  eatmg,  I  perceive. 
Did  I  not  give  you  what  I  give  all  my  la- 
borers, twelve  good  sous  and  a  loaf  of  bread? 
If  you    keep  on  in  that  way,  you'll    do   a 
thriving  business."     T'  <;P,  stopping  short,  he 
muttered  to  himself;  '        "^ay  be  all  right. 
He  ought  to  know  €.        n  )  of  Masses  and 
prayers  better  than  I  cio." 
And  he  counted  him  oat  five  sous. 
Poor  Wilhelm  was  possessed  of  both  feel- 
ing and  intelligence,  and  he  understood,  with 
sorrow,  that    what    he    did,   solely    through 
obedience,  was  attributed  to  motives  diamet- 
rically opposed  to  his  sentiments.     His  first 
impulse, — and  a  very  natural  one,  too,— was 


(VAaiaWMs-ii*  *• 


52 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


to  give  back  to  Master  Barnaby  the  twelve 
sous  lie  had  given  him,  >vith  the  five  over 
and  above.  But  he  feared  that  by  giving 
way  to  this  natural  feeling,  he  would  make 
the  worthy  burgher  angry,  and  sin  himself 
against  the  virtues  of  charity  and  humility. 
So  he  went  away. 

But,  behold!  he  had  only  gone  a  few  paces 
when  he  came  fuU  upon  the  same  old  man. 
He  was  jnst  going  to  ease  his  heart  by  teU- 
ing  him  of  his  trouble;  but  without  leaving 
him  time  to  open  his  mouth :  "  Go,"  said  the 
mysterious  personage   again,  "  tell  that  man 
that  he  has  not  given  you  all  he  owes  you, 
and  that  some  misfortune  will  befall  him  if 
he  does  not  give  you  more  pay." 

The  perplexity  of  the  honest  laborer  may 
be  easier  imagined  than  described.  "  If  I  do 
as  the  old  man  bids  me,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"I  offend  the  honorable  Zimmermann,  who, 
after  all,  was  very  good  to  me  this  morning, 
and  has  given  me  more  than  we  agreed 
upon.    It,  on  the  other  hand,  I  refuse 


His 

impers 


)SEPH. 

naby  the  twelve 

th  the  five   over 

that  by  giving 

he  would  make 

and  sin  himself 

ity  and  humility. 

gone  a  few  paces 
le  same  old  man. 
his  heart  by  tell- 
it  without  leaving 
11 :  "  Go,"  said  the 
n,  "tell  that  man 

all  he  owes  you, 
will  befall  him  if 
5  pay." 

onest  laborer  may 
iscribed.  "  If  I  do 
said  he  to  himself, 
Zimmermann,  who, 
)  me  this  morning, 
B  than  we  agreed 
and,  I  refuse " 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph.  W 

His  internal  colloquy  was  cut  short  by  an 
imperative  look  from  the  unknown,  and  Wil- 
hehu  had  to  resign  himself  to  go  back  agam 
with  the  strange  message.  This  time,  the 
burgher  was  struck  with  indefinable  terror. 
He  ran  to  his  money-chest,  hastily  thrust  in 
both  his  hands,  and  drew  them  out  full  of 
coin,  which  he  gave,  without  counting  them, 
to  the  surprised  and  grateful  laborer. 

That  very  night,  Christ  Jesus  appeared  to 
Master  Barnaby  Zimmermann.    He  was  seat- 
ed on  his  tribunal:  His  face  was  exi.iessive 
of  majestic  and  ineffable  serenity.     Ho  enu- 
merated the  faults  of  the  honorable  and  wor- 
thy burglier;  He  reproached  him  with  them 
in  terms  that  made  his  blood  run  cold  to 
hear.     Then   continuing:  "Know,"  said  he, 
"that  if  that  poor  man  whom  you  humbled 
had   not   heard  Mass  to  your  intention,  it 
would  have  been  all  over  with  you.     Sudden 
death  would  have  overtaken  you:  you  were 
damned  forever.    See,  now,  if  you  have  given 
him  all  you  owe  bim." 


,,— ^■>:.i.-*T'-i  i^^-a^^-^^'"^^ 


64 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


So  saying,  lio  disappeared. 

When  om-  burgher  awoke,  he  was  no  onger 
the  cardoss  and  somewhat  skeptical  phdoso- 
r,her  of  the  day  before ;  he  was  covered  with 
r!::at:and  as  pale  as  death.     ^^^  that^,no- 

„,eut  he  ceased  to  consider  prayer  as  a  make- 
Xa;  and.  above  all.  understood  bette..  the 

value  of  a  Mass. 

How  many  others,  unknown  to  themselves 
were  indebted  to  the  Mass  for  the  success  of 
their  material  enterprises  in  tins  hfe.  and  in 

the  other,  an  eternity  of  bliss! 

We  thought  this  story  naturally  found  ^^ 
placeinthe-Legends  of  St.  Joseph.      Who 
indeed,  could  the  mysterious  old  man  here 
:  question  be.  if  not  the  august  Fmanc. 
to  whom  it  has  been  given  to  W--  *^^ 
spiritual  and  temporal    goods  whereof  God 
1    made   him  the  dispenser. -the  spec, 
patron,   and.  consequently,  the  regulator  of 
the  interests  of  the  working  class;  and  final- 
ly, the  particular  patron  of  the  worthy  Joseph 
Wilhelm? 


>SEPU. 


lie  was  no  longer 
ikeptical  pliiloso- 
was  coveietl  with 
From  that  mo- 
prayer  as  a  make- 
i-stootl  better  the 

wn  to  themselves, 
for  the  success  of 
Q  this  life,  and  in 

iss! 

laturally  found  its 
;t.  Joseph."    Who, 
OU8  old  man  here 
}  august  Financier 
3n  to  appraise  the 
pods  whereof  God 
enser,— the  special 
yr,  the  regulator  of 
ng  class ;  and,  final- 
f  the  worthy  Joseph 


vn. 

THE  UNEXPECTED  PILOT. 

pERE  is  no  practice  more  pleasing 
to  St.  Joseph  than  the  commemo- 
ration of  his  seven  joys  and  seven 
sorrows;  there  is  no  surer  means 
of  obtaining  his  assistance.  Tins  pious  de- 
votion derives  its  origin  from  a  well-known 
occun-ence  related  by  all  the  authoi-s  who 
have  written  on  St.  Joseph.    It  is  as  fol- 

lows : —  _ 

Two  religious  of  the  Order  of  St.  Francis 
were  sailing  on  the  Sea  of  Flanders;  all  at 
once  there  arose  a  tempest  so  furious  that 
the  vessel  was  swaUowed  up,  with  all  on 
hoard;  that  is  to  say,  more  than  three  hun- 
dred persons.  The  two  monks  were  so  for- 
tunate as  to  get  hold  of  a  fragment  of  the 


5e  Leoeiidb  of  St.  Josem. 

„.eck,  to  wbiol.  tUey  cUmg.    They  wo  for 
U„c.  .Uy»  H.,a  Ihroe  .inUts  oxposd  to  tbo 
;„,.y   ot   »i,„ls  «Kl   — .     W.,U   a   teavM 
«t„,vlio„-    Thei.  steengtU  begm.  to  t.ul   »^d 
beco„,ing   gnuTually    moro    oxbm«tea      bo, 
eoulJ,  at  last,  scarcely  keep  tlu«  boUl  ou 
the  pl.u,k  of  safety.    At  U«s  mo.oeot    W 
Vg,i  to  invoke  St  Joseph,  tor  whom  they 
U„d  always  bad  a  pavtiealar  'l"ofo„.    On 
the  thirf  day,  St.  Josepb  appeavs  to    hem 
under  the  form  of  a  strong,  ma,e«t,c    nan. 
He  deigns  to  take  bis  place  between  them, 
.„d  to  unite   bis  efforts  ..ith  tbo,«    vrbae 
sharing,  as  it  o-ere,  their  danger,   be  gra- 
lusly  salutes   them,  and  that  V    ;  sa^^ 
seems  to  revive  their  failing  conra^     md  g«e 
them  new  strength.    Very  soon  he    ,kes  the 
direction  of  their  singular  craft,  and  brmgs 
U,em  sat.  and  sound  to  shore     The  good 
religious  first  thank  Heaven  for  bav.ng  saved 
them,  then  turning  to  the  unknown,  tbey  beg 
„,  bim  to  tell  them  bis  name.    "I  am  Jo- 
sepb"  be  replied.    "I  am  he  whose  heart 


Thoy  wove  for 
cxi»oscil  to  the 
What  a  fenvful 
ftivn  to  fail,  and 
ixhaustea,  they 
)  their  \w\i\  on 
is  moment  they 

for  whom  they 
\x  devotion.  On 
appears  to  them 
g,  majestic  man. 
e  between  them, 
;ith  theirs,  while 
danger;   he  gra- 

that  V  ;  salute 
;  conrat  "id  give 
soon  he     .kes  the 

craft,  and  brings 
shore.  The  good 
n  for  having  saved 
unknown,  they  beg 
name.  "I  am  Jo- 
n  he  whose  heart 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


67 


was  overwhelmed  with  seven  joys,  and  torn 
by  seven  swords  of  sorrow.  My  protection 
is  sine  to  all  those  who  shall  mnko  a  remem- 
brance of  thom  on  earth.  Profit  by  this  ad- 
vice, and  make  others  do  so,  likewise. 

Ho  then  disappeared,  leaving  the   monks 
full  of  joy  and  gratitude. 


vin. 

THE  LiailTING  OF  NAPLES. 

IHEEE  lived  in  Naples,  a  very  long 
timo  ogo,  a  good  monk  ^vho,  by 
his  cluuity  and  indefatigable  de- 
votion to  all,  bad  acquired  sucb 
an  influence  over  the  populace,  tbat  a  vord 
from  bin.   .as  sufficient  to  make   tbem   do 
whatever    be  ^visbed.      On    account    of   Ins 
small  stature,  tbe  I^zzaroni  called  bim  no- 
thing  but  "tbe  little  Fatber:"    be  .vas  for 
them  at  once 'preacher,  physician,  and  magis- 
trate, and  day  and    night  they  found    Inm 
always  ready  to  sex-ve  them.    Hence,  he  had 
become  a  real  power  in  the  city. 

Now.  at  tbat  time,  the  city  of  Naples  did 
not  yet  enjoy  the  advantage  of  having  its 
streets  lit  by  night,  and  vicious  people  of  al 
sorts  turned  tbe  darkness  to  good  account 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


69 


^j:p 


KArLES. 

pies,  a  very  long 
1  monk  wlio,  by 
inclefiitigablo  de- 
,cl  acquivoil  such 
iace,  that  a  word 
>  make   them   do 

account  of  his 
i  called  him  no- 
ler;"  he  was  for 
sician,  and  mngis- 

they  found  him 
1.  Hence,  ho  had 
le  city. 

;ity  of  Naples  did 
age  of  having  its 
cious  people  of  all 
J  to  good  account 


against  the  honest  and  wcU-disposed  amongst 
the   pocplo.     In  order  to  remedy  this  state 
of  tliii.gs,  the  city  council,  by  order  of   the 
Govenmient,  decided  that  the  three  principal 
streets  of  the  city,  Toledo,  Chiuia,  and  I'ona, 
should  bo    henceforth  lighted.      Son.o  H.xty 
lamps    were     accordingly    prepared    for    the 
Btreets  named,  to   the  great  contentment  of 
all  honest  people,  who  rejoiced  in  being  no 
longer  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  former  days. 
But  they  counted  without  the  Lazzanm. 

lu  fact,  those  gentry,  the   sworn   enemies 
of  all  that  interfered  with  their  habits  could 
uot    peaceably  see    themselves    deprived    of 
their  old    facility  in  robbing,   antl    even   of 
their  peculiar  way  of  sleeping;  it  was  touch- 
ing them  on  the  sore  spot.     So,  waxing  fu- 
rious, they  broke,  in  one  night,  all  the  lamps. 
The    magistrates,  unwiUing  to  give  way  to 
the  rioters,  soon  had  the  lamps  replaced  by 
others,  with   the  threat  of  imprisonment  for 
whoever  dared  to  injure  them.    But  it  was 
talking  to  the  deaf,  and  notwithstanding  all 


80  Lmwiim  o»  St.  Ooseph. 

:„  Lew  no  bettor,    Th"  I--  ^-'1'"  " 
ctU,ua,io.,  wooing  t„o„,.c.vo,  tUu.  a.t^. 

tad    f    ..o  of  tl,o  ..o„.bc«  of  tl,o  couucl. 
!;T,\,,ol,ttloFatl«»oaiao,.l,co.n„toou 

■•  „al,l  lu.    "tho  rictory  would  cclamly 
::;«:■•      'T.ati,t.W>  ««U>  an  tbootW. 

..,vo  «ut  tta  little  rall.or'8  1.«lP-  T«° 
J„bor,  of  tho  eouncil  «e.o  fo.tUw.th  do- 
::ted  to  «o  and  recuest  bhn  to  con.e  ^d 

talk  the  matter  over  with  tbem.    Ibc  goo 
'ptbcr  aceepts  the  invltatioo,  1*„^  ^ J^ 
tbat  is  «a(d,  refteets  a  mon,ent  and  fclb  them 
that  he  hopes  to  got  them  ont  of  then-  d  ffl- 
IX   and  Lure  tho  success  of  thou- en^r- 

;i  provided  tho,  let  him  aet  with  pcrfeci 

fcoodom.     Ihoy  readily  promise   to  do  so, 
and  separate  full  of  hope  and  joy. 

Without  delay  tho  little  Father,  v-ho  had 
quieklj  formed  his  plan,  set  about  putUng  it 


in  exec 
of  two 
least  0 
flepU  Hi 
Icdo  H 
squiiro 

Willi,  o 

thitii  ti 

pictuvt 

Tho 

tho  in 

luoreo 

from  < 

to  loo 

liiiviuj 

was  q 

Wh 

place( 

Tlio  ] 

Fathe 

aud  I 

iirouE 

follov 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


61 


)H£PH. 

icoiul  lumiuiuies 

A  ihmX  ttltompl 

poor   NeiipoUtan 

Ivos  IhuH  dufoat- 

fiving  "P  '^^'^  ""' 
ca  caiiio  into  tUo 
ffl  o£  tho  couucil. 
only  como  to  ouv 
f  woiikl  cevtainly 
mill  all  tho  others; 

icr'8  help."      Two 
rcro   forthwith  dc- 
him  to  conio  and 
,  them.    The  good 
,tiou,  listens  to  all 
lent,  and  tells  thorn 
n  out  of  their  diffi- 
cess  of  their  euter- 
am  act  with  perfect 
promise    to  do  so, 
5  and  joy. 

le  Father,  who  hod 
set  about  putting  it 


in  execution.  He  goes  inunediately  in  HOiirch 
of  two  or  three  painters,  tho  poorest  and 
litvst  employed ;  ho  conducts  them  to  8t.  Jo- 
rtcpli  street,  which  opens,  at  ono  end,  on  To- 
ledo street,  and  at  the  other  on  Mtnlina 
Hiiniuo;  he  stops  with  them  before  a  hi^'h 
wall,  orders  them  to  whiten  it  carefully,  and 
thtai  to  paint  on  it  at  full  length  a  luuulsomo 
pictiiro  of  St.  Joseph. 

Tho  Lazmroni,  who  had  no  suspicion  of 
tlio  innocent  snare  laid  for  them,  and  who, 
moreover,  are  artists  by  nature,  stopped  first 
from  curiosity,  and  afterwards  with  interest, 
to  look  at  the  painting  the  little  Father  was 
hiiviug  done,  tho  more  so  that  tho  picture 
was  quite  a  good  one. 

When  all  was  finished,  tho  little  Father 
placed  a  lamp  before  St.  Joseph's  image. 
Tlie  Lazzaroni  only  concluded  that  tho  good 
Father  had  a  special  devotion  to  St.  Joseph, 
iiud  as  the  lamp  did  not  throw  laucli  light 
around  no  one  minded  its  being  there.  The 
following  evening,  the  Father  added  a  second 


62 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


lamp  to  the  first,  sceiug  ^vlxicU  the  Lazzarom 
began  to  show  some  discontent,  because  it 
was  a  novelty  to  have  so  much  hght  ma 
street  that  had  hitherto  been  so  dark.  The 
M  day,  at  the  same  hour,  the  little  Eath. 

arrives  with  three  lamps,  which  he  arranges 
before  the  image.  Then  the  Lazzarom.  inove 
numerous  than  on  the  previous  days,  lost  al 
patience,  and  began  to  complain  loudly.  Bu 
the  Father,  appearing  to  take  no  notice  o 
their  complaints,  returned  a  fourth  tune,  and 
it  was  to  fasten  a  bright  lamp  to  the  wall. 

From  this  step  the  Lazzaroni  clearly  saw 
that  his  intention  was  to  support  the  action 
of  the  authorities  against  the  mutmeers,  ami 
take  sides  .vith  honest  people   against  rob- 
bers;  in   a  word,  that  he  wanted    he     it) 
to  be  lit.     Thereupon,  popular   indignation 
reached   its   height,  the   lamp  was    broken, 
and  the  whole  angry  mob  began  to  shout: 
..Death  to  St.  Joseph!  death  to  all  the  en.- 
ndesoiihe  Lazzaroni!" 

The  little  Father  waited,  with  much  com- 


.su<i-  -v^-- --■!'-:**»*''-'-' 


It.  Joseph. 

f  which  the  Lazzaroni 
liscontent,  because  it 
,  so  much  hght  in  a 
o  been  so  clavk.  The 
hour,  the  little  Father 
ps,  which  he  arranges 
jn  the  Lazzaroni,  move 

previous  clays,  lost  all 

complain  loudly.     But 

;  to  take  no  notice  of 

•ned  a  fourth  time,  and 

ght  lamp  to  the  wall. 

Lazzaroni  clearly  saw 
3  to  support  the  action 
linst  the  mutineers,  and 
est  people  against  rob- 
lat  he  wanted  the  city 
on,  popular   indignation 

the  lamp  was  broken, 
•y  mob  began  to  shout: 
,h!  death  to  all  the  ene- 

ni! 
waited,  with  much  com 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


63 


posure,  till  the  storm    had    passed,   certain 
that  no  one  would  dare  to  touch  even  a  hair 

of  his  head. 

When  the  tumult  had  subsided  a  little,  he 
asked  to  be  heard  for  a  moment,  and  very 
far  from  reproaching  them  or  making  any 
complaints,  as  he  had  a  right  to  do,  he  con- 
tented himself  with  announcing  that  on  the 
following  day  he  would  preach  in  one  of  the 
public  squares,  on  the  greatness  and  power 

of  St.  Joseph. 

At  this  announcement,  curiosity  and  joy 
were  all  the  more  lively,  that  the  Father 
rarely  spoke  in  the  open  air,  and  only  on 
great  occasions  or  great  public  emergencies ; 
hence  the  announcement  was  well  received, 
and  every  one  went  away  peaceably  in  ex- 
pectation of  the  morrow. 

From  the  dawn  of  day,  not  only  the  place 
appointed,  but  all  the  adjacent  streets,  were 
densely  crowded  ;  for  the  whole  population  of 
the  city  having  heard  the  news,  had  eagerly 
thronged  to  hear  the  sermon. 


64  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 

Very  soon  the  little  Father  appears,  and 
i8  welcomed  ^vith  load  acclamation,  followed 
immediately  by  a  respectful  silence  as  soon 
as  he  ascends  the  platform  from  >vhich  he  is 

to  speak.  ,      ,       , 

The  zealous  preacher  spoke  to  the  hearts 

of  that  beheving  people  so  tonchingly  and  so 

efficaciously,  that  when  he  had  finished  his 

discourse,  and,  with  a  persuasive  smile,  put 

this  question  to  them:  "Well,  children,  now 

that  you  know  the  excellence  and  the  merits 

of    St.  Joseph,  tell    me  if    one    poor  taper 

would  suffice  to  express  our  veneration  for 

BO  glorious  a  protector:  tell  me  if  you  were 

right   in    being    angry  with    me.  because  I 
wished  to  honor  him  with  a  bright    .mp? 
the  whole  crowd,  as  it  were,  electrified,  cried 

with  one  voice :  ^     ,  i, 

"What!   one  lamp!    He  deserves  ten!  he 
deserves  twenty!  a  hundred!...  St.  Joseph, 

the  guardian  of  Jesus,  for  ever!  ...  Long 
live  the  little  Father!..."  And  at  the  close 
of   the  discourse,  the  whole  of  St.   Joseph 


street 
others 
desert 
was  li 
Thi 
self  V 
tion  \ 
and  < 


.^.waK*'****" '*'*'«~*  ^ 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


65 


)8EPH. 

er  nppears,  and 
imation,  followed 
silence  as  soon 
from  which  he  is 

>ke  to  the  hearts 
tonchingly  and  so 
had  finished  his 
suasive  smile,  put 
rell,  children,  now 
ice  and  the  merits 
I   one    poor  taper 
3ur  veneration  for 
bU  me  if  you  were 
th    me,  because  I 
1  a  bright  'vmp?" 
ire,  electrified,  cried 

[e  deserves  ten!  he 
ed!  .  .  .  St.  Joseph, 
or  ever!  .  .  .  I'v)ng 
."  And  at  the  close 
hole  of  St.   Joseph 


street  was  provided  with  lamps ;  after  a  while, 
others  were  placed  in  the  darkest  and  most 
deserted  streets,  and    soon    the  whole    city 

was  lit. 

Thanks  to  Providence,  the  unbehever  him- 
self will  be  forced  to  acknowledge  that  devo- 
tion to  a  Saint  may  be  favorable  to  progress 
and  civilization. 


f 


IX. 

THE  SHEPHERDS  OF  BETHLEHEM. 
fOMULlTS  had  raised  a  temple  in 
''     Borne    in    honor  of  Janus^or- 
shipped    as    the    god    of    Peace. 
Its  doors  were   thrown    open  in 
,.        of  war      The  enemies  of    the  Roman 
time  of  war  ^i^vays  to  have  arms 

neot)le  compeUmg  them  aiwa;y  ^       i^  ^f 

^^    ■    1      A.   the  doors  of  this  temple  of 

forth. 


Augi 
that  tl 
tht'  yo 
anc,  G 
aboi!e, 
abanl 

Mt 

Ccd 
Ari 


up  in 
the 


U 


-  _»B»<,»«««««'' 


.^t^M0iSvr'f^^*^^^'- 


„»**)we«fc*<"-*'  ■""^'^ 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


67 


BETHLEHEM. 

^ised  a  temple  in 
r  of  Janus,  wor- 
j    god    of    Peace. 
thrown    open  in 
3S  of    the  Roman 
ways  to  have  arms 
of  this  temple  of 
ice  before  the  reign 
just  been  closed  a 
irsaries.    It  pleased 
to  be  born  at  the 
earth  should  enjoy 

tottered,  then,  on  Us 

that,  m  an  obscure 

a  virgin  had  brought 


Augustus  learned  from  the  oracle  of  Apollo, 
that  the  demons  were  forced  to  fly  before 
tlu^  young  child  of  Heber,  master  of  the  gods, 
anc,  God  himself,  to  return  to  their  gloomy 
abocJe,  and  that  their  silent  altars  must  be 
abanloned. 

Mt   puer  Hcbreus,  divos  Dcub  ipse  gubernans, 

Cedere  sebc  jubet,  tristemquc  rcdire  sub : 

Aris  ergo  dehine  tacitis  ftbstedito  nostris. 

Two  hecatombs  had  obtained  this  answer 

for  him. 

The  Senate,  whose  members  voted  as  one 
man,  had  just  decreed  him  altars  and  the  in- 
cense reserved  for  gods.    Augustus,  instead 
of  accepting  such  honors,  acknowledged  that 
he  was  but  a  mortal ;  and  shutting  himself 
up  in  a  remote  room  of  his  palace,  alone  with 
the  pythoness,  he  inquired  of  her  if  there 
was  not  to  come  into  the  world  a  man  greater 
than  he.    This  was  precisely  on  the  day  of 
Our  Lord's  nativity.     The  Virgin  Motlier  of 
God  appeared  to  him  at  that  moment  on  the 
summit  of  the  Capitol,  holding  her  Divine 


68 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


I' 


Son   in    her  arms.     The  Sibyl,  seized  with 
the  spirit  that  moved  her  iu  lier  inspirations, 
immediately  cried  out:  Am  primogcnUi  Deu 
BohJld  the  altar  of  the  first-born  of  God! 
That  child  is  greater  than  thee.     He   it  is 
who  must  be  adored.     (Suidas.  Nicephorus. 
Vincent  de  Beauvais.  Jacques  de  Vonvgme, 
Baronius,  and  others.) 

Constantine  the  Great  caused  a  temple  to 
be  built  on  that  very  spot,  says  CorneiUe  de 
la  Pierre,  m  memory  of  this  event  and  m 
honor  of  the  most  pure  Virgin  and  her  Son, 
which  temple  still  exists,  and  is  called  by  the 
people  of  Borne  Ara  C<bU.  altar  of  heaven. 

At  Bethlehem,  the  crib  ^as  likewise  an 
altar  from  which  ascended  the  perfect  adora- 
tion of  Mary  and  Joseph,  mingled  with  that 
of  the  angels  come  down  from  their  thrones 
I   pay  their   homage   to    the  Word   made 

^'it  was  the  partial  accomplishment  of  what 
was  prefigured  by  one  of  the  loveliest  types 
of  Jesus-Joseph  sold  by  his  brethren,  cast 


into  p 
ard  of 
The  b: 
Halntei 
himse 
as  we 


i() 


„,««fc';,;  ■■^fjf^'-'iiv'^^' 


)SEPH. 

byl,  seized  with 
her  inspirations, 
primogeniti  Dei. 

L-8t-boin  of  Goil! 
thee.     He   it  is 

idas,  Nicephorus, 

lies  de  Voragine, 

lused  a  temple  to 
says  Corneille  do 
his  event,  and  in 
igin  and  her  Son, 
ad  is  called  by  the 
altar  of  heaven. 
)  >vas   likewise   an 
the  perfect  adora- 
mingled  with  that 
from  their  thrones 
)    tlie  Word    made 

mplishment  of  what 
:  the  loveliest  types 
y  his  brethren,  cast 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


e» 


into  prison,  and  subsequently  made  the  stew- 
ard of  Pharaoh,  to  save  the  life  of  his  family. 
The  pheaves  which  he  bound  in  dreams  were 
Halnted  by  those  of  his  brethren,  and  ho  saw 
himself  worshipped  by  the  sun  and  the  moon 
as  well   as   the   stars.     Which   presaged   not 
only  his  elevation  and  the  humbling  of  Jacob 
and   all  his  sons  before   him,  but  also   the 
glory  of  Jesus  and  the  homage  to  be  paid 
him  by  His  Mother,  His  adopted  father,  and 
His  brethren. 

And  who  were  His  brethren?  All  men, 
for  He  had  entered  the  family  of  Adam. 
He  gave  them  the  name  of  brothers,  and 
God  declares  that  He  is  His  first-born.  Men 
were,  then,  to  come  to  His  feet  to  adore  Him 
in  their  turn.  The  first  invited  to  pay  Him 
that  tribute  are  poor  keepers  of  sheep,  be- 
cause He  is  to  take  the  title  of  Pastor,  and 
will  give  His  life  for  His  sheep. 

"There  were  in  the  same  country,"  says 
the  Gospel,  "  shepherds  watching,  and  keep- 
ing the  night-watches  over  their  flock.    And 


7(y  Leoeuds  of  St.  Joseph. 

I  ^f  ilifi  Lord  Btoocl  by  thorn, 

rC«  1  tu  to  them,  Te.-  not.  .or  be- 
oluUg  ,ou  «ooa  tU,i.,p  o.  ^ea    P^ 
*Hat.U»U.etoa«tcI.op.     r^^^^^^^^ 
i.  bo™  to  JO.  a  8a^v«n,  ,  .^  ^,,„„ 

^'■'^"Jly^. all  «..at,,e  Infant 
rp::^:'— .;e,otUe..a«a.U,.a 

by  a  numerouB  company  oi 

•  •       fV,fi  Tiord    and   singing:      ^^lory 
r"r.Se;t,a.apeaceo„ea..tbt„ 

-;«  rl:tl  Wee.  had  ceased  to  be 

,       ,    the  echo  of  their  wrfrous  melody 
heard,  the  ^^^  ,„„. 

„addiedawayjbe^'>a  ,  Jig,,, 

r.r^atXt-'o/the.a.^tthe 

seemed  as  though  their  eye 


'  *- iar*i-*"ft-^W'^' 


((ij^jtj's.Ma-^i***!^-"' 


8EPH. 

stoocl  by  thom, 
me  round  about 
great  fear.    And 
ear  not,  for  bo- 
ig8  of  great  joy, 
,le.    For  thi3  day 
,ho  is  Christ  the 
And  this  shall 
xll  find  the  Infant 
les,  and  laid  in  a 

5  Angel  was  joined 
the  heavenly  host, 
tnging:  "Glory  to 
peace  on  earth  to 

had  ceased  to  be 
wondrous  melody 
mt  forms  had  van- 
ly  a  train  of  ligbt 
I  the  stars,  yet  the 
azing  upwards.  It 
eyes  still  saw  the 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


71 


bright  vision,  and  their  ears  still  hoard  the 
heavenly  harmonies.  They  remained  motion- 
less, leaning  on  their  crooks,  unable  to  over- 
come their  ecstasy. 

Raising  themselves,  at  last,  they  said  one 
to  the  other:  "Let  ns  go  over  to  Bethlehem, 
and  see  what  has  come  to  pass." 

They  took  the  best  offerings  their  poor 
dwelliiigs  afforded  :  milk,  fruits,  lambs,  and 
by  the  light  of  the  stars  journeyed  towards 
the  little  city  of  David.  Moses,  of  old,  at- 
tracted by  the  flames  of  a  bush  that  was 
burning,  yet  not  consumed,  left  the  flocks  of 
Jethro,  his  father-in-law,  and  heard  the  voice 
of  God  announcing  to  him  the  deliverance  of 
the  people  of  Israel. 

The  shepherds  of  Bethlehem  found  the 
true  burning  bush  at  the  end  of  their  journey. 
The  heart  of  Mary  was  a  focuS  of  the  bright- 
est and  most  intense  fire.  Holy  and  inex- 
tinguishable, those  flames  consumed  it  not, 
but  made  it  blossom,  and  it  brought  forth 
the  Word  of  God,  who  delivers  us  from  the 


,j2  Leoe«p8  of  Sr.  .Toseph,    • 

•       ..f  tin.  bliick  riuvi-ftoh.     AnA  He 

'"Goi„B  t...tU  from  Hi»  ■nolU«-«  ™    >,     ■ 
,at  '  tl>o  Saviour  a,„.oa>o,a  .l,i„n.B  Uke  H,« 

2  emorai-g  hom  Ao  nMn  o(   Iho  .1..,, 

3  ::  h„:.  o.  »iaui«W  »»s  0U«...ea  to 

^'ZX.  tUe  eav«„  *o  ..,  ana  «,e  v.,t 

It^al  the  poor  cave  of  BetUe,.e,„M 
tltioas  to  Joseph    and   M„y  seemed    o 

them  u»elc»».    They  aAed  not  »1.J  tl  e  ch.W 
*nlnceatotl,ema,theOh«oftl,eLo,d 

Tad  not  been  born  in  a  samptuous  palace 
thy  hi.  brow  was  not  crowned.  «.l,y  be  d,d 

:'   wear  purple,  why  ieweU  did  BO    »p»«e 

1  his  elothins.  «by  bi»  cradle  d.d  not  re 
"„.ble  a  tbrone.  why  he  was  not  surrounded 

by  soldiers  and  ministers? 

Tl,e  signs  that  were  given  them  to  know 
^  in  whose  regard  worlds  are  but  atoms 

,ere   poor   swaddling-clothes,  a   manger,  a 


SEPH, 

i-ftoh.  AnA  He 
Vincent  Ferrer, 
nty,  sliono  afar; 
hev's  womb,"  h« 

shininp  like  the 
ita  of   the  dawn, 

was  chaugetl  to 

3ca,  and  the  vast 
eplierds  loss  won- 
>t  Bethlehem.    All 

Mary  seemed  to 

not  why  the  child 
Christ  of  the  Lord 
sumptuous  palace, 
awned,  why  he  did 
els  did  not  sparkle 

cradle  did  not  rc- 
,vas  not  surrounded 

? 

iven  them  to  know 
>rlds  are  but  atoms, 
3thes,   a    manger,   ft 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


73 


little  straw.  Thoy  saw  all  that  as  they  had 
seen  the  wonders  that  brought  them  thither. 
Their  faith  was  not  a  surprise ;  an  unknown 
ardor  intlaracd  thorn.  Thoy  prostrated  them- 
selves, and  offered  their  gifts.  Th.m,  they 
related  to  Mary  and  Joseph  the  words  of  the 
Angels,  and  the  wonders  which  had  taken 

place. 

Joseph  confirmed   all.    Ho  removed  even 
the  slightest  clouds  from  their  eyes  by  the 
discreet  revelation  of  what  he  had   himself 
seen.     He    made    known  to  them    how  the 
Angel  had  dispelled  his  doubt,  the  prophecy 
of   Micheas,    the   greatness   of    the    Messiah, 
and  other  facts  that  strengthened  their  con- 
viction and  increased  their  devotion,  and  put 
on  their  lips  praises  that  were  soon  spread 
abroad  through  every  land  for  the  glory  of 

God. 

As  for  Mary,  she  remained  silent.  It  was 
uot  for  her  to  make  known  mysteries  of  whJch 
she  was  the  principal  instrument.    Modesty 

commended  that  reserve. 

7 


74 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Slio  mcaitatcd  with  a  joyful  heart  on  tho 
giftH  of  tho  Lord.     And  what  nioro  tit  to  ah- 
Borb  hor  every  thon^ht.  and  to  oxcito  unut- 
terable  fcM.linRs   within   her?     Tho   pn.n.is.H 
of   the  Arcliun^el  ClaV)ri(>l,  tho  propheeies  of 
Za.-hary  and   Elizabeth,  the  Hanctification  of 
Jolui    ihe    Baptist,   the    enlightening  of    St. 
Joseph,  whoHe  uncertainty  was  for  ever  dis- 
pelled, her  own  virginal  maternity,  tho  desti- 
tution of  her  Son,  11  in  weakness.  His  poverty, 
tho  adoration  of  the  Shepherds-what  an  in- 
exhaustible source  of  reflection!     Might  not 
each  particidar  fact,  or  tho   connection   and 
comparison  between  one  and  tho  otlier,  keep 
her  in   a   continual    ecstasy?     What    happy 
effects  she   afterwards  saw  flow  from  these 
events!    Men  who,  in  their  rash  and  fatal  te- 
merity, had  thought  to  become  like  unto  God, 
became  now  gods,  the  Divinity  being  made 
flesh  of  her  flesh :  Caro  ChrisH,  caro  Maricr, 
all  things  were  repaired,  and  the  glory  of  God 
would  be  more  known  and  more  extended. 
This  contemplation  imprinted  on  her  memory 


the  ind 

tiu'ts  hIi 

i^flists. 

than  th 

fi)r  the 

iu  its  e 

tliat    K 

tlianks 

roturnr 

sweet, 

tho  ev 

aud  fr 

Tra( 

Jiiys  g 

tion  ol 

of  Je! 

Bothh 

ceivetl 


FoHEPn. 

yful  heart  on  the 
it  more  tit  to  nh- 
(1  to  oxcito  unut- 
r?     Tho   proiiiisiH 
tho  proiihopios  of 
0  Hiiiu'tification  of 
iili^liti'iiing  of    St. 
was  for  ever  dis- 
atornity,  tho  desti- 
kiiesa,  His  poverty, 
lionls— what  an  iu- 
L'ction !    Might  not 
lio   connection   and 
uid  the  other,  keep 
sy?     What    happy 
w  flow  from  these 
ir  rash  and  fatal  te- 
ronio  Uko  unto  God, 
>iviuity  being  made 
Chrisfi,  caro  Maricr, 
ind  the  glory  of  God 
md  more  extended, 
inted  on  her  memory 


Leqendh  of  St.  Joskph. 


76 


tho  indolil)lo   reuuiiihraiu'O  of  all  tho  divine 
tiictrt  Hho  waa  ou.^  day  to  confide  to  tho  Kvuu- 
t^ilistH.     It  had  more  ofToct  on  the  nhtpherds 
amn  tho  words  of  Jo8ei)h.     It  was  imposHil)lo 
lor  them  to  rcHist  a  hapi)inoHs  ho  elo(iuent 
ill  its  silence.     Tliey,  therefore,  did  not  leave 
tliat    Hac-iod    place    without    roturuing    new 
thiinks   to  God;    and   when   once   they   had 
roturned  to  their  flocks  there  was  nothing  so 
sweet,  so  enjoyable  to  them,  us  to  toll  over 
the  events  of  the  holy  night  to  their  families 

ftud  friends. 

Tradition  has  transniitted  even  to  our  own 
days  gnicoful  facts  which  followed  the  Adora- 
tion of  the  SlH^diortls,  ultesting  the  piosenco 
of  Jesus  and  Mary  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Bethlehem,  and  which  have  ever  been  re- 
ceived with  respect.     ^ 

One  day,  Mary  chanced  to  find  herself  at 
the  entrance  of  the  village  where  the  shep- 
herds  dwelt.  She  wanted  to  quench  her 
thirst  and  that  of  the  Child ;  but  the  water 
was  far  down  in  the  well,  and  those  who  were 


76 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


uC 


I   1 


i  , 


there  refused  to  come  to  her  aid.  Scai'ce  y 
had  she  leaned  over  the  edge  of  the  well, 
when  the  water,  of  itself,  rose  up  to  her. 
That  was  henceforth  Mary's  Well. 

Two  hundred  paces. from  Bethlehem  is  the 
Grotto  of  Mary's  Milk.    The  Yirgin  Mother 
having  gone  in  there  to  suckle  her  Son.  some 
drops  of   her  virginal  milk,  falling    on  the 
ground,  gave  the  place  a  virtue  which  con- 
tinues even  yet.    Pilgrims  go  there  to  pray, 
and  take  back  to  their  own    land  a  wlnte 
water  that  springs  from  the  rock,  under  .h« 
name  of  the  Virgin's  Milk. 

Midway  between  Bethlehem   and  Jerusa- 
lem was   also  Mary's  Tree.    Mary  and  Jo- 
seph were  resting  in  its  shade.    Its  branch- 
es,  springing  together,  formed  a  magnificent 
crown  over  tae  head  of    Jesus,   as    though 
doing  homage  to  the  God  of  nature  and  His  I 

\  -xx  fL-     It  might  be  admired  evenl^e. 
august  Mothex*.     it  migai  |  ^^^ 

now,  after  eighteen  hundred  years  o«  ^xist-l 
ence.  had  it  not  been  destroyed  by  the  pro-  P^c 
prietor  of  an  adjoining  field,  under  pretence 


■*- "■■^«^«Wa*A;^^^3ei* :  V-'B^'.a^-*' 


s»a«at«»*^******'*-'"*^**'**''^''''*^*^*^^ 


r.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


77 


0  her  aid.    Scai'cely 
le  edge  of  the  well, 
self,  rose  up  to  her. 
ary's  Well, 
rom  Bethlehem  is  the 

The  Yirgin  Mother 
suckle  her  Son,  some 
milk,  faUiiig  on  the 
J  a  virtue  which  con- 
ims  go  there  to  pray, 
sir  own  land  a  white 
m  the  rock,  under  thfi 

Vlilk. 

lethlehem   and  Jerusa- 
,  Tree.    Mary  and  Jo- 
its  shade.    Its  branch- 
•,  formed  a  magnificent 

1  of  Jesus,  as  though 
God  of  nature  and  His 
might  he  admired  even 
hundred  years  of  exist- 
n  destroyed  by  the  pro- 
ing  field,  under  pretence 


that  his  harvest  was  constantly  trampled 
under  foot  by  Christians  and  pilgrims.  His 
incredulity  was  punished,  a  short  time  alter, 
by  a  miserable  death. 

Finally,  it  is  related  that  one  of  the  brave 
Arab  tribes,  on  hearing  of  the  marvelous 
things  which  had  come  to  pass  at  Bethlehem, 
descended  from  its  mountains,  and  came  to 
swear  fidelity  to  Jesus,  in  His  cradle.  What 
is  certain  is,  that  the  image  of  Mary,  holding 
her  Divine  Son  on  her  knee,  was  painted  on 
a  pillar  of  the  Kaaba,  their  temple  or  sacred 
house,  and  that  Jesus  and  Mary  were  placed 
amongst  their  three  hundred  and  sixty  deities. 
They  prostrated  themselves  before  them  to 
ask  them  for  favorable  winds  and  seasons. 
History  even  assures  us  that  after  the  Mas- 
sacre ci  the  Innocents,  they  rose  up,  with 
fierce  cries  of  blood  and  death,  to  avenge 
Jesus  and  Mary,  and  that  they  dared  to 
attack  Herod,  defended  by  his  army  and  the 
Bomaus. 


^,^^^5,-5C.^^/,^»i^*#**»^>--*^>-^ 


X. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 

lEPITA,  my  good  Pepita,"  a  good 
burgher  of  Valencia  ventured  to 
say  to  his  housekeeper,  after  turn- 
ing his  tongue  at  least  seven  times 
in  his  mouth  before  he  decided  on  speaking; 
"Pepita,  I  would  like  to  ask  you  to  prepare 
a  real  good  dinner  for  Christmas  Day." 

At  this  begmning,  which  indicated  the  fear 
wherewith  she  inspired  her  master,  Pepita 
knit  her  brows,  and  showed  in  all  her  move- 
ments, the  contradiction  which  the  worthy 
Spanish  burgher  might  have  expected. 

"You  are  very  late  in  telling  me,  master," 
8he  replied  in  a  sharp  tone;  "we  are  at  the 
23d  of  December,  and  the  day  after  next  will 
be  Christmas.'" 


(l^ 


the 


ver 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


79 


J  DINNER. 

,d  Pepita,"  a  good 
lencia  ventured  to 
iekeeper,  after  turn- 
at  least  seven  times 
3cided  on  speaking ; 
ask  you  to  prepare 
•istmas  Day." 
ii  indicated  the  fear 
her  master,  Pepita 
red  in  all  her  move- 

which  the  worthy 
lave  expected. 

telling  me,  master," 
)ne;  "we  are  at  the 
le  day  after  next  will 


"But    you    have  more    than  twenty -four 
hours  to  make  your  preparations        " 

..Are   you    jesting,    master?      It    is   easy 
seen  that  you  hav'nt  the  least  idea  of   the 
trouble  that    housekeeping  gives!     Are  not 
those  twenty-four  hours  more  than  emp  oyed 
already?     Have  I  not  to  pohsh  the  furni- 
ture, wash  the  windows,  and  clean  up  the 
,vhole  house,  as  I  do  before  every  great  fes- 
tival?" 
"You  can  put  that  off  for  a  week  or  so. 

the  house  is  as  clean  as  it  needs  to  be," 

«  One  can  see  plainly  that  you  know  no- 
thing about  it.    And  then,  my  conscience ! 
nmst  I  not  clean  it,  too?     You  are  good 
n^aster;  it  seems  that  no  one  but  yourself 
has  a  right  to  work  out  their  salvation      If 
you  want  to  go  to  communion  on  Christmas 
night,  why  don't  you  want  me  to    do  the 
same?     Is  it  that  my  soul  is  not  worth  as 
much  as  yours?" 

"No.  no,  my  good  Pepita;  you  know  I  am 
very  far  from  having  such  thoughts  as  that. 


■■;.Ai' 


'.  ««*i..iiS**»»*«»=« 


„.g*aWB*i»*»*w^*^*^***'"* 


.,»<i>a«»a»F.««"-*"«"~' 


80 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


On  the  contrary,  I  want  to  make  you  merit 

heaven " 

"By  patience,  is  it  not?  You  exercise  it 
remarkably  well,  master !  I  don't  know  what 
keeps  me  from  going  to  end  my  days  m  a 
convent,  where  I  might,  at  least,  make  -y 
devotions  in  peace." 

"Oh,  do  not  leave  me,  Pepita!  What 
would  become  of  me  without  your  care? 
Wait  till  I.  die  to  retire  to  a  convent;  you 
wUl  then  have  the  means  of  paying  some- 
thing for  your  board." 

"Why  do  you  speak  of  death?"  said  the 
housekeeper,  wiping  away  a  tear,  either  real 
or  pretended;  "you  wiU  hve  a  long  time  yet, 
please  God!  I  take  such  good  care  of  you." 

"I  know,  my  good  Pepita.  all  I  owe  to 
your  care  and  attention ;  but  could  you  not 
add  to  the  obligation  by  getting  me  up  a  nice 
Uttle  dinner  on  Christmas  Day?" 

"Provided  you  don't  have  many  people!" 
"I  will  only  have  one  family— a  man,  a 
woman,  and  a  child." 


gnes 
who 


Joseph. 

to  make  you  merit 

?    You  exercise  it 
I  don't  know  what ' 
end  my  days  in  a 
at  least,  make  Try 

ne,  Pepita!      What 

nthout   your    care? 

to  a  convent;  you 

QS  of  paying  some- 

of  death?"  said  the 
,y  a  tear,  either  real 
Uve  a  long  time  yet, 
good  care  of  you." 
Pepita,  all  I  owe  to 
;  but  could  you  not 
getting  me  up  a  nice 
las  Day?" 

have  many  people!" 
ae  family— a  man,  a 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


81 


«I  think  an  olla  podrida*  and  a  roast  would 
be  enough  for  that." 

"Undoubtedly  ;  but  these  are  people  whom 
I  want  to  treat  with  all  possible  respect;  so 
let  the  roast  be  a  good  pair  of  pheasants, 
stuffed  with  truffles;  then  some  nice  pastry, 
and  some  of  those  sweet  dishes  you  make 
in  such  perfection,  Pepita." 

"If  they  are  people  of  distinction,  thought 
the  housekeeper,  «'they  will,  maybe,  give  me 
a  present,  as  it  is  customary  to  do." 

She  prepared  everything,  accorduigly,  with 
riKht  good  will ;  but  great  was  her  disappoint- 
uTent  when  she  discovered  in  the  expected 
guests  poor  neighbors  of  humble  condition 
whom  her  master  received  with  the  greatest 
cordiality,  and  even  affection. 

She  waited  upon  them  in  the  worst  pos- 
Bible  temper,  which  the  host  did  his  best  to 

.  A  favorite  di.h  all  through  Spain.  It  i«  a  sort  of 
...t.w"  made  up  of  fowl  and  various  other  ,ngre  .ent^ 
T,ri.<H..^i«  to  the  Spaniards  what  the  "..^.a'  .s  to 
the  Sootcli.— TaANB. 


--^^tie'K^-i'--^^ 


iir&.'AtiJ«^i*»»'^*'''' 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


disguise  by  doing  the  honors  of  his  table  in 
the  best  way  he  could,  causing  the  best  wines 
of  his  cellar  to  be  served  in  abundance. 
Never  had  those  good  people  enjoyed  so 
comfortable  a  meal. 

The  year  following,  there  was  the  sama  cir- 
cumlocution on  the  part  of  the  master,  the 
same  objections  on  the  part  of   the  servant 
to  lend  her  aid  in  what  she  called  a  ridicu- 
lous whim.    It  is  easily  understood  that  this 
woman  exaggerated  her  trouble  and  the  merit 
of  her  interested  services ;  she  had  continued 
to  persuade  her  master  that  her  cares  were 
indispensable  to  him,  and  singularly  abused 
the  authority  he  had  allowed  her  to  assume. 
The  friends  and  relatives  of  the  old  man  had 
been  long  since  estranged  from  him  by  the 
opposition  and  disagreeable  ways  of  this  wo- 
man. 

Such  is  often  the  fate  of  selfish  persons 
who,  desirous  of  avoiding  the  trouble  and 
expense  of  marriage,  fall,  in  their  old  age, 
under  the  tyrannical  yoke  of  a  servant  who 


FOSEPH. 

1-8  of  his  table  in 
ig  the  best  wines 
i  in  abundance. 
)ople  enjoyed    so 

was  the  sama  cir- 
E  the  master,  the 
rt  of  the  servant 
le  called  a  ridicu- 
ierstood  that  this 
ible  and  the  merit 
she  iiad  continued 
at  her  cares  were 
singularly  abused 
ed  her  to  assume. 
I  the  old  man  had 

from  him  by  the 
e  ways  of  this  wo- 
of selfish  persons 
»  the  trouble  and 

in  their  old  age, 
i  of  a  servant  who 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


88 


is,  at  least,  deficient  in  education,  if  not  in 
good  principles. 

This  was  not  precisely  the  case  with  the 
hero  of  this  legend,  wlio  was  a  widower,  and 
had  reason  to  regret  his  departed  wife,  who, 
be  her  imperfections  what  they  might,  had 
never  made  his  life  so  wearisome  as  did  his 
liousfekoeper. 

But  although  he  usually  allowed  Pepita  to 
lead  him  at  will,  he  this  time  stoutly  resisted. 

"So  you  want  to  entertain  beggars  jigain!" 

said  she. 

"  Come  now,  Pepita,  I  have  made  a  vow, 
and  I  must  accomplish  it.  Let  us  see,  you 
who  have  religion,  have  you  never  been  trou- 
bled thinking  of  the  rebuffs  the  Holy  Family 
met  in  Bethlehem,  ai^d  do  you  not  regret 
that  you  were  not  there  to  give  a  kind  wel- 
come to  such  holy  and  venerable  guests? 
Well,  what  we  were  not  in  the  way  of  doing 
then,  since  we  did  not  exist,  we  can  do  now, 
by  welcoming  in  their  stead  the  poor  who 
represent  them  in  our  regard. 


.■TM*fcii^'----''^-'^-"*^' 


-«c;waWi-^^^»^^-"^''^'* 


^f/vc«i**fc**^'^^^  r^^teSf. 


£.^,<rt^fniiftiii^-»>*^-:''-'**-'^* 


84 


Lkgends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Notwithstanding   her  bad  temper,  Pepita 
had  some  ^.utimentB  of  piety,  and  thxsappoa 

to  her  heart  was  not  made  in  vam.     So   t 
is  that  true  charity  is  contagious.     Pepita, 
therefore,  welcomed  her  master's  guests  tt^ 
time  vitli  more  kindness,  and  ever  after  tieat- 
ed    them    hospitably    when  Christmas    Day 
came  round,  ^vithout  placing  any  further  ob- 
stacle    in    the  way  of   their    entertainment. 
Henceforth,  she  even  assisted  the  old  rnan 

in  the  distribution  of  his  alms  ;  and.  although 
.he  ne^ver  failed  to  help  him  a  little  m  getting 
over  his  purgatory,  she  thus  went  with  him  I 

to  the  very  gate  of  Paradise. 

Having    reached    an    advanced    age.    the| 
worthy  burgher  at  last  saw  his  end  approach- 
in..     Notwithstanding  his  pure   and  charit- 
able life,  which  seemed  to  promise  him  a  holy  | 
and  a  happy  death,  he   judged  hnnself   se- 
verely by  the  dawning  light  of  eternity. 

He  reproached  himself  for  not  having  been 
fervent,  or  mortified  enough;  and,  above  all,| 
for  not  having  given  more  alms. 


Joseph. 

ad  temper,  Pepita 
ety,  and  this  appeal 
ido  in  vain.  So  it 
ontagioua.  Pepita, 
master's  guests  this 
and  ever  after  treat- 
len  Christmas  Day 
jing  any  further  oh- 
their  entertainment, 
agisted  the  old  man 
,  alms  ;  and,  althougli 
him  a  little  in  getting 
thus  went  with  him 

idise. 

advanced    age,    the 
jaw  his  end  approach- 
his  pure  and  charit- 
to  promise  him  a  holy 
le   judged  himself   se- 
light  of  eternity, 
elf  for  not  having  been 
nough ;  and,  above  all, 
dore  alms. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


86 


"What  good,"  said  he,  "will  that  money  I 
have  taken  such  care  of  be  to  me  now,  when 
I  can  take  uoiif  of  it  with  me? '' 

"  It  is  true  I  have  poured  some  little  of  it 
into  the  lap  of  the  poor ;  but  if  I  were  to  be- 
gin my  life  again,  judging  the  things  of  this 
world  as  I  now  do,  I  would  have  been  much 
less  sparing  of  it."" 

The  devil  strove  to  turn  this  disposition  to 
account   by  throwing   him  into  despair,  and 
inspire  him  with  terror,  which  the  voice  of 
Pepita,  still  somewhat  sharp,  could  not  calm ; 
indeed,  it  was   only  that  of  the  priest,  who 
brought  him  the  last  helps  of  religion,  that 
gave  him  any  comfort. 
His  agony  was  just  beginning. 
All  at  once  the  door  of  the  sick-room,  from 
which  all  strangers  were  excluded,  opened  of  it- 
self, and  three  august  visitors  presented  them- 
selves at  the  bedside  of  the  dying  man.  , 

They  were  Jesus  and  Mary,  the  hope  and 
salvation  of  the  dying,  and  Joseph,  the  patron 
of  a  good  death  1 


f.:-.>-Sj-^^ja*ia:»>S:£#*^^'-'**^'^"^"'"'''"'  ■"  '" 


,rfc?t*;-~"^i^-- 


gg  LBOF.SDB  or  St.  Joseph. 

The  y.   V  ^IfiiirT^l^'M  havo  brisht- 

;„l^r.o,„«.oir«a«odmo„tU.iUe»oco„»„l. 

'"';.C;:i:,t  rotten  seated  v.,  at  tMtaUc 

thatitisonlyinstftat-*"*'™""'""' 

to  invite  tlieo  to  a  seat  at  ours. 
'^;;„„iivine.yco„»,le.UUesick™a,U-.ol« 

1,1.  soul  in  the  peace  and  joy  of  the  Lor  1, 
"Jd  CoTto  taUe  i.is  plaee  at  the  heave* 

'IL  a««.e.tieity  of  this  mir^«lo„s  ^tor, 
i„  ™„anteed  by  St.  Vincent  Ferrer.  Pope 
Piu^  VII.  consecrated  the  touching  example 
riven  by  the  burgher  ol  Valencia,  by  granhng 
rLl^ence  of  seven  years,  and  as  man 

,„„ntiuestoa,.pe,^ns.h„sh^    .j;^« 
tioor  persons  to  eat,  in    memoi;y 
S^;,'and  Joseph,  provided  they  bave  tr,« 
Itrition  tor  their  sins.    THs  .ndulgencc  be- 
Tome,  plenary,  if,  on  that  day,  the  author  e 
this  good  work  has  confessed  and  recervd 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


87 


OSEPH. 

m\A  liavo  brifiht- 
of  the  ajing  man, 
3  Hwellea  when  ho 
iths  these  consol- 
ed us  at  thy  tabic, 
houia  como  at  last 

>i 
iirs. 

10  sick  man  yieldctl 
id  joy  of  the  Lord, 
36  at  the  heavenly 

8  miraculous  story 
cent  Ferrer.  Pope 
e  touching  example 
Valencia,  by  granting 
years,  and  as  many 
,  who  shall  give  three 

t   memory  of  Jesus, 
ided  they  have  true 
This  indulgence  be- 
at day,  the  author  oi 
infessed  and  received 


communion.  As  for  the  members  of  the  fam- 
ily who  contribute,  were  it  only  by  tlunr  pres- 
ence, to  that  hospitable  net,  and  the  servants 
who  assist  in  its  pcrfornuince,  they  each  gain 
an  hundred  days'  indulgence,  (rius  VII., 
1815.) 


j^***v*.tA**»»«>^»^-"i  *''^ 


l^^V*;S^---*Vi^***       -T^.* 


XI. 

THE  PARIS  DRESSMAKER. 

I VINTS  have  been  seen  iu  all  Htates, 
aii.l  professions  that  sooin  the  least 
compatible  wiili  an  evaiigolioal  life, 
have   iu   heavtv>   their  rei)reseiita- 
tives,  rvhose   works  are   so  mnch   the   more 
meritoric'-M  that  they  were  exercised  in  the 
midst  of  el.;mi  iita  the  least  favorable  to  salva- 
tion.    Kvory  one  knows  this  truth,  and  yet  it 
is  no  sr.if,ll  subject  of  surprise  when  we  find 
in  a  di  '^Hsnmkor  the  truest  sanctity,  living  as 
she  f'".'  in  the  bosom  of  a  capital  called,  with 
gooa  reason,  the  modern  Babylon. 

It  is  that  "the  Spirit  blows  wheresoever  it 
will,"  and  chooses  its  elect  wherever,  it  pleases. 
The  person  of  whom  we  are  about  to  speak 
had  been  tried  in  her  earliest  years  by  the 
selfishness   and  harshness  of  a  mother  who 


SSMAKEli. 

n  seen  iu  all  states, 
that  Hcem  the  least 

in  evanRflioiil  life, 
K  their  representa- 
10  much  the  more 
•0  cxercisetl  in  the 

favorable  to  salva- 
lis  truth,  and  yet  it 
•prise  when  we  find 
it  sanctity,  living  as 
,  capital  called,  with 
Babylon. 

ilows  wheresoever  it 
;  wherever,  it  pleases. 

are  about  to  speak 
arliest  years  by  the 
IS  of  a  mother  who 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STRiiET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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Microfiche 

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Collection  de 
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^iteJgajjesaB^^i'i^^aiT.c**-,  -*«i-- 


hac 

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ten 

hal 

sell 

nee 

all 

iuv 

a  ] 

0ft( 

t 

au( 

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lati 

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So: 

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lia( 

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all 

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wa 

B 

foi 

3 

be 

Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


89 


had  made  her  suffer  severely.  Having  thus 
been  exercised  in  abnegation  from  her  most 
tender  j'ears,  she  early  contracted  the  salutar  • 
habit  of  a  very  uncommon  submissiveness  and 
self-denial,  of  which  she  was  to  have  great 
need  all  her  life  through.  She  referred  to  God 
all  her  actions  and  all  her  sacrifices,  and  often 
invoked  Mary  and  Joseph,  in  whom  she  felt 
a  most  filial  confidence, — a  confidence  that 
often  brought  her  to  the  foot  of  their  altar, 
and  made  her  there  find  her  sweetest  conso- 
lation. 

Reverses  of  fortune  were  her  lightest  griefs. 
Sought  in  marriage  by  an  estimable  man  who 
had  noticed  her  from  her  childhood,  she  saw 
all  her  hopes  of  domestic  happiness  over- 
thrown by  her  mother,  who  compelled  her  to 
contract  a  marriage  against  her  will.  In  this 
position,  which  would  serve  as  an  excuse  for 
many  a  young  woman,  temptations  were  not 
wanting  to  that  poor,  thwarted  heart.  The 
former  lover  died  of  grief;  but  she  who  had 
been  his  betrothed  found  in  the  sense  of  duty 


.  ,1^^  wVi^c*S*«*»'*nrf'i»«»*Mi^'!Siiair«ifc^  «^!«^  ■ 


jj-*j(xti«..  .--.i^Wit^' J  vifciVift'  ■ 


90 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


courage  to  live  ;  and  yet  that  duty  was  made 
very  bitter  to  her  by  the  unworthy  husband 
whom  her  fiUal  submission  had  forced  her  to 
accept.    Addicted  to  idleness  and  love  of  jjlea- 
sure,  he  found  it  convenient  to  leave  all  the 
burden  of  household  expenses  on  his  wife,  and 
also  his  own  support.    Every  employment  was 
too  laborious  for  him,  but  nothing  was  good 
enough  or  fine  enough  for  his  personal  wants. 
To  excuse  this  conduct,  as  well  as  his  odious 
brutality,  he  published  calumnies  concerning 
his  wife,  which  no  one  believed,  so  evident  was 
her  virtue.     After  long  years  of  such  trials, 
patiently  endured  by  the  meek  ^'ictim,  her 
tormentor  having  at  last  found  a  situation  to 
his  liliing,  he  thought  fit  to  enjoy  it  alone,  and 
quitted  his  wife's  home,  carrying  off  from  it 
everything  he  could,  leaving  the  poor  woman 
only  empty  rooms,  the  charge  of  four  children, 
and  for  all  indemnity,  only  the  benefit  of  his 
absence. 

Be  it  understood  that  bread  was  dear  just 
then,  and  the  little  earnings  of  the  poor  mo- 


Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph.- 


91 


at  duty  was  made 
mwoithy  husband 
had  forced  her  to 
3  and  love  of  plea- 
it  to  leave  all  the 
es  on  his  wife,  and 
y  employment  was 
nothing  was  good 
lis  personal  wants, 
well  as  his  odious 
amnies  concerning 
ved,  so  evident  was 
ars  of  such  trials, 
meek  ^'ictim,  her 
Dund  a  situation  to 
enjoy  it  alone,  and 
arrying  off  from  it 
ig  the  poor  woman 
ge  of  four  children, 
r  the  benefit  of  his 

read  was  dear  just 
358  of  the  poor  mo- 


ther were  often  insufficient  for  the  wants  of  the 
family.  Then  the  deserted  wife  went  to  some 
church,  to  prostrate  herself  before  the  Blessed 
Virgm's  altar,  and  there,  addressing  the  au- 
gust spouses  of  Nazareth,  who  had  lived,  like 
her,  by  their  own  toil,  she  told  them  of  her 
distress,  with  trusting  simplicity, — and  never 
was  her  prayer  in  vain. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  she  was  returning 
home,  serene  and  joyful,  especially  on  account 
of  the  evident  assistance  of  her  holy  protec- 
tors, having  just  received  a  small  sum  of  mo- 
ney, her  first  use  of  which  was  the  purchase 
of  a  large  loaf  of  bread,  and  some  trimmings 
for  her  work.  All  at  once  she  perceived  that 
she  had  lost  the  pocket-book  containing  her 
treasure.  By  no  means  alarmed,  she  goes 
back  to  the  church,  where  she  had  prayed 
successfully  some  time  before,  and,  addressing 
herself  to  Joseph  and  Mary,  she  reminds  them 
that  it  is  to  them  she  is  indebted  for  her  small 
means,  and  beseeches  them  not  to  allow  her 
to  lose  the  fruit  of  their  benefit.    "Tou  are 


.««i,*ieB»w»a«ie*«iM-iSffl*w«3^ss<aaii^-^^ 


m 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


my  father  and  mother,"  she  added  (this  was 
her  usual  form  of  expression).  "You  have 
accustomed  me  to  count  on  you ;  would  you, 
then,  have  assisted  me  in  vain?  No,  you  will 
not  suffer  my  hopes  to  be  so  cruelly  betrayed, 
and  you  can  easily  restore  to  me  what  I  owe 
to  your  goodness,  and  what  you  know  well  is 
so  necessary  to  me ! " 

And  calm  and  smiling  she  went  back  home 
with  her  slender  store  of  provisions.  She 
asked  the  woman  who  opened  the  door  if  any- 
thing had  been  brought  for  her. 

"Are  you  expecting  anything?"  asked  the  wo- 
man, envious,  like  most  of  her  class,  and  glad 
of  a  pretext  for  entering  into  conversation. 

"Ah!  I  have  lost  my  pocket-book,"  the 
dressmaker  repUed,  "  and  I  expect  that  some 
one  will  bring  it  back." 

"How  simple  you  are,  madam,  to  suppose 
that  any  one  who  has  got  so  good  a  chance 
will  be  so  ready  to  give  it  up  again !  What 
is  good  to  take  is  good  to  keep.  1  fear  you 
may  make  a  cross  of  it." 


Joseph. 

he  added  (this  was 
sion).  "You  have 
n  you;  would  you, 
irain?  No,  you  will 
so  cruelly  betrayed, 
3  to  me  what  I  owe 
it  you  know  well  is 

he  went  back  home 
of  provisions.  She 
ned  the  door  if  any- 
r  her. 

hing?"  asked  the  wo- 
t  her  class,  and  glad 
ato  conversation. 
J  pocket-book,"   the 
1 1  expect  that  some 

,  madam,  to  suppose 

ot  so  good  a  chance 

it  up  again!    What 

to  keep.    1  fear  you 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


93 


"  Pardon  me,  I  expect  to  get  my  money 
l)iick,"  said  the  dressmaker,  "  for  I  placed  the 
affair  in  the  hands  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and 
St.  Joseph.  They  know  I  have  need  of  it,  and 
they  have  never  yet  left  me  in  trouble  without 
help." 

The  woman  of  the  house  burst  out  laughing, 
whilst  her  tenant,  no  wise  disturbed,  went  up 
stairs  to  prepare  the  humble  family  meal. 

Arrived  at  the  landing-place,  there  was 
another  obstacle,  of  which  she  had  not  before 
thought :  the  key  of  her  room  was  gone  in  the 
lost  pocket-book.  To  call  in  the  services  of  a 
locksmith,  without  any  means  of  paying  him 
whatever  he  might  charge,  was  not  to  be 
thought  of !  But  our  dressmaker  had  no  time 
for  reflection  as  to  what  she  should  do.  She 
had  scarcely  reached  her  own  door  when  she 
heard  the  woman  below  calling  to  her  that  a 
gentleman  wished  to  speak  to  her. 

That  gentleman  was  the  bearer  of  the 
pocket-book,  so  confidently  expected ;  having 
found  it,  and  ascertained  the  address  of  the 


j«(SiiSS«C»(»«*"»Ai«'rai's^iJIS^ 


^T,MB«:ri2H7a;i«w<^w«^"^^»**^^ 


n!'5S?W»«*"' 


94 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


owner,  he  had  lost  no  time  in  returning  it, 
supposing  that  it  would  be  anxiously  looked 
for. 

'*  Well,  no,  sir,  I  was  not  very  anxious,"  the 
dressmaker  said,  after  thanking  him,  "  I  knew 
some  one  would  bring  it  back." 

"Your  confidence  surprises  me,  madam," 
said  the  obliging  individual.  "In  restoring 
tliat  which  belongs  to  you,  I  have  only  done 
the  simplest  and  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world ;  but  you  know  your  pocket-book  might 
have  fallen  into  bad  hands.  I  see  you  are 
quite  a  philosopher,  and  set  little  value  on 
money.  Doubtless  your  position  enables  you 
to  do  so." 

"On  the  contrary,  sir,  this  money  is  all  I 
have  in  the  world;  and  I  am  far  from  de- 
spising it,  for  I  need  it  to  give  bread  to  my 
family ;  but  I  had  commended  the  matter  to 
the  Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  Joseph.  They  are 
my  Father  and  Mother ;  they  have  never  aban- 
doned me;  nud  now  you  see  the  proof  that 
my  hope  in  them  has  never  been  in  vain." 


(cr 


Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


95 


imo  iu  roturning  it, 
be  anxiously  looked 

ot  very  anxious,"  the 
inking  him,  "  I  knew 
)ack." 

prises  me,  madam," 
iual.  "  In  restoring 
3U,  I  have  only  done 
natural  thing  in  the 
ar  pocket-book  might 
nds.  I  see  you  are 
1  set  little  value  on 
position  enables  you 


"  Truly,  that  is  what  confounds  me.  I  am 
ft  Protestnnt;  and,  as  such,  would  never  be- 
liove  in  the  efficacy  of  invoking  the  saints ; 
but  here  is  a  fact  that  strikes  me  very  forcibly, 
and  would  almost  inspire  me  with  a  wish  to 
become  a  Catholic." 

"And  I,"  cried  the  woman  of  the  house, 
who  had  been  an  attentive  listener,  "CathoUo 
as  I  am,  this  makes  me  think  that  I  must 
become  a  better  Christian  than  I  have  been." 

Let  us  hope  that  these  salutary  desires  may 
Bot  have  been  in  vain  1 


,  this  money  is  all  I 
I  I  am  far  from  de- 
to  give  bread  to  my 
aended  the  matter  to 
5t.  Joseph.  They  are 
they  have  never  aban- 
u  see  the  proof  that 
irer  been  in  vain." 


,=^.«w-»«HK«nffle»««*»i-'>WK««H«'»»**''=^ 


;ja«:^?^':a!^i£-7^s«pHV.S*«s:i' 


XII. 

A  MEETING. 

lORTY  days  have  passed  since  the 
night  of  the  miraculous  birth,  and 
the  moment  has  come  when  tho 
Virgin  Mother  is  to  go  up  to  the 
Temple  of  the  Lord  to  present  the  Child 
Jesus.  Before  following  the  Holy  Family  in 
this  mysterious  journey  to  Jerusalem,  let  us 
pause  a  moment  in  Bethlehem,  and  ponder 
with  loving,  docile  hearts  on  the  mysteries 
about  to  be  accomplished. 

The  law  of  Moses,  the  perfect  typo  of  theo- 
cratic government,  must  already  have  con- 
Ktantly  reminded  the  Hebrew  people  of  their 
entire  dependence  on  the  Creator.  Shut  up 
in  a  small  portion  of  the  earth,  that  privi- 
leged nation  was  to  keep  there  the  sacred 
deposit  of  the  primitive  truths,  disfigured  by 


Lf.oends  of  St.  Joseph. 


97 


riNO. 

ave  passed  since  the 
miraculous  birth,  and 
has  come  when  tho 
BT  is  to  go  up  to  the 
to  present  the  Child 
5  the  Holy  Family  in 
■  to  Jerusalem,  let  us 
thlehem,  and  ponder 
rts  on  the  mysteries 
ed. 

B  perfect  typo  of  theo- 
st  already  have  con- 
[ebrew  people  of  their 
;he  Creator.  Shut  up 
tho  earth,  that  privi- 
:eep  there  the  sacred 
e  truths,  disfigured  by 


tho  fabulous  cosmogonies  and  philosophical 
ahcnations  of   the  pagans.     With  a    similar 
oiul  in  view,  Moses  could  not  allow  to  pass 
unnoticed,  in  tho  life  of   the  Jo\vi.sh  woman, 
tho  benefit  of  tho  blessing  given  to  her  womb. 
The  honor  of   having  a  flouviHliiiig  posterity 
WHS  too  great  for  her  not  to  testify  her  grati- 
tude to  the  Lord ;   and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  belief  in   the   original  stain   caused    the 
mother  of  the  new-born  child  to  be  defiled 
with  a  legal  impurity.     Hence  the  two  sacri- 
fices of  holocaust  and  of  expiation,  imposed 
ou  the  woman  who  had  newly  brought  forth. 
A  second  Divine  command  declared  all  tho 
first-born  tho  property  of  the  Lord,  and  pre- 
scribed the  way  to  redeem  them.     The  price 
of  this  ransom  was  five  hiickels,  of  the  sanc- 
tuary weight,   equal    to    about    twenty    far- 
tiiiugs. 

Mary,  a  daughter  of  Israel,  had  brought 
forth;  Jesus  was  her  first-born;  doubtless, 
such  a  child-bearing,  such  a  new-burn,  re- 
quhed  not  the  accomplishment  of  the  Jewish 


■4-j»0i<!|S>Wt«^i%'-i 


a«««3aER^VBiaCT«E«SW»5W,'^^^'^' 


Cf'^'f^f^'^  ?,C3'"S'S'W0C  "3 


98 


Legends  of  St.  Jobeph. 


law     What  connection  was  there  between  the 

Bp„u8CH  of  men  and  the  chaste  SpouHO  of  the 

Holy  Ghost,  a  Virgin  in  the  conception  of  her 

Son    a  Virgin  in  her  ineffable  chiUl-beanng, 

ever  r^^'e.  ^"^  still  more  pure  after  bearuig 

i„  her  womb,  and  bringing  into  the  world  the 

(led  of  all  HolineHS?     If  she  considered  the 

Bublime  quality  of  Him  who  deigned  to  he 

born  of  her,  that  majesty  of  the  Creator    ho 

Prince  of  Peace,  the  Sovereign  Arbiter  of  the 

■universe,  how  could  she  think  that  such  a  Son 

was  subject  to  the  humiliation  of  the  ransom, 

like  the  veriest  slave  ? 

But  Mary  was  the  humblest  of   women; 
Bhe  remembered  her  duties  as  a  daughter  of 
Sion  and  to  fulfil  them  neglected  her  prerog- 
ative's  as  the  Mother  of  God.    The  Virgin 
did  not  think  it  derogatory  to  the  honor  of  1 
her  Son,  nor  to  the  glorious  merit  of  her  own 
purity,  to  eome  to  seek  an  external  purifica- 
tion of  which  she  had  no  need.    Thus,  at  the 
appointed  time,  she  set  out  to  present  m  the 
temple  her  Child  and  her  modest  offering- 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph, 


99 


L\   JOBEPH. 

as  there  between  the 
chaste  Spouse  of  the 
the  concoptiou  of  her 
offable  chihl-bearing, 
e  pure  after  bearing 
ag  into  the  world  the 
[{  she  consiclerecl  the 
I  Avho  deigned  to  he  I 
ly  of  the  Creator,  the 
vereign  Arbiter  of  the 
think  that  such  a  Son 
illation  of  the  ransom, 

humblest  of   women; 
ttties  as  a  daughter  of 
1  neglected  her  prerog- 
of  God.    The  Virgin' 
;atory  to  the  honor  of  1 
lious  merit  of  her  own 
k  an  external  purifica- 
no  need.    Thus,  at  the 
)t  out  to  present  in  the 
her  modest  offering- 


innocent  birds,  typifying,  first,  chastity  and 
fidelity;  and  secondly,  innocence  and  sim- 
plicity. 

What  an   admirable   journey  was  that  of 
Miiry  and  Joseph  going  from  Bethlehem  to 
Jorusalem !    The  old  man  carries  the  humblo 
offering  of   two  doves  and  five   shekels,  tho 
ransom  of   tho   first-bom   son.     The  Divino 
Child  reposes  gently  in  His  Mother's  arms ; 
slie  presses  Him  to  her  heart  all  the  way  on 
that  auspicious  journey.     Heaven,  earth,  all 
nature,  are  sanctified  by  the  benign  presence 
of  their  merciful  Creator.     The  men  amongst 
whom   that  Mother  passes    along  with    her 
tender  Infant  regard  her,  some  with  indiffer- 
ence, others  with    interest;    but   no  one  of 
them  yet  penetrates  the  mystery  which  is  to 
save  them  all. 

At  length,  that  holy  and  sublime  Family 
has  entered  Jerusalem.  Jerusalem,  Bethle- 
hem, Nazareth !  Do  not  the  names  of  these 
three  places,  associated  with  the  mortal  life 
of  the  Redeemer,  recall,  in  their  magnificent 


^■,iia»H  jiiKtr-e^jtii-'jis^-c* 


100 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph 


progression,    the    most    striking    marvels    ef 
power   and  goodness?    The   Saviour  of  tho 
world  is  conceived  in  Nazareth,  which  signi- 
fies the  floiccr,  for  He  is,  as  He  says  in  the 
mysterious  Canticle  of  love,  the  flower  of  the 
fields   and   the  lily   of  the   valley,   and  Hia 
Divine    odor    delights    us.      He   is    born    at 
Bethlehem,  the  house  of  h-ead,  in  order  to  be 
our  nourishment,  our  life,  the  precious  germ 
.  of  our  immortality.     Near  Jerusalem,  a  sacred 
city  whose  name  signifies  vision  of  peace,  He 
is  offered  in  sacrifice  on  the  cross,  and  by 
His  blood  He  restores  peace  between  heaven 
and  earth,  peace  amongst  men,  peace  in  our 
souls,  that  ravishing  peace  which  surpasses 
all  understanding. 

On  this  solemn  day,  crossing  the  threshold 
of  the  temple.  He  is  about  to  give  the  earn- 
est of  that  Divine,  unknown,  unutterable 
peace.  Amongst  ihat  concourse  of  sacrifi- 
cers,  in  the  midst  of  that  crowd  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  that  throngs  the  several  pre- 
cincts of  the  temple,  many  are  looking  for 


>F  St.  Joseph 

)8t  striking  marvels  cf 
s?  The  Saviour  of  tho 
n  Naziu-etli,  which  signi- 
le  is,  as  He  says  in  the 
of  love,  the  flower  of  the 

of  the  valley,  and  His 
^ts  us.  He  is  born  at 
2  of  h-ead,  in  order  to  be 
ar  life,  the  precious  germ 

Near  Jerusalem,  a  sacred 
gnifies  vision  of  peact;  He 
ice  on  the  cross,  and  by 
res  peace  between  heaven 
mongst  men,  peace  in  our 
ng  peace  which  surpasses 

lay,  crossing  the  threshold 
is  about  to  give  the  earn- 
ae,  unknown,  unutterable 
that  concourse  of  sacrifi- 
of  that  crowd  of  the  chil- 
it  throngs  the  several  pre- 
iple,  many  are  looking  for 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


101 


the  Deliverer,  and  know  that  the  hour  of  His 
manifestation  is  at  hand ;  but  none  of  them 
know  that  at  that  very  moment  the  expected 
Messiah  has  just  entered  into  the  house  of 

God. 

Meanwhile,   the   humble  daughter  of    the 
tribe  of  Juda,  the  living  ark,  bearing  her  Di- 
vine burden,  ascends  the  steps  of   the  holy 
place;  she  comes,  like  the  other  women  of 
Israel,  to  offer  the  sacrifice  of  purification, 
for  the  birth  of  the  Son  whom  she  had  con- 
ceived by  the  Holy  Ghost,  but  who  was  to  be 
presented  in  the  temple  as  the  Son  of  Mary, 
spouse  of  Joseph.     Tlie  slight  offering  of  the 
daughter  of  kings  Avas  accepted,  in  consider- 
ation of  her  extreme  poverty.    Perchance  the 
man  m  the  purple   cloak   and  gilt  sandals, 
within  the  sacred  enclosure,  may  have  let  fall 
some  contemptuous  words,  or  cast  a  disdain- 
ful glance  on  the  couple  who  brought  to  the 
altar  only  the  two  doves  of  the  poor.    And 
yet,  that  couple,  so  timid,  so  simple,  so  ob- 
scure, present  another  offering,  far  more  pre- 


;«t.--*:i?,-i:-r^'l 


>fifat,v!tK»3»w«^,sr-?- 


102 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


cious  than  that  of  the  haughty  and  the  rich ; 
it  is  the  Infant  God,  the  Lamb  without  spot, 
•who  bears  in  His  veins  the  blood  of  the 
world's  redemption. 

But  Jesus  is  specially  offered  to  His  Father, 
although  the  price  of  His  ransom  has  been 
paid,  us  being  one  day  to  be  the  Priest  and 
tlie  Victim  of  a  new  sacrifice,  more  perfect  in 
itself    and  more  efficacious  than  all  those  of 
the  old  Law.     Thus,  the  synagogue  began  to 
give  place  to  the  Church,  bright  with  the 
hope  of  a  resplendent  future  ;  thus,  Christian- 
ity, the  law  of  love,  of  meekness,  and  of  hu- 
mility, came  to  deliver  the  old  Jewish  and 
pagan  society  from  servile  fear  as  from  the 
pride  of  sages,  and  to  enter  upon  an  immense 
career  of  progress  and  of  regeneration.     The 
shades  and  figures  wherein  was  enveloped  the 
second  temple,  whose   future  glory  was  an- 
nounced by  the  prophet  Aggeus  to  the  Jews 
returned  from  exile,  were  opening  to  the  rays 
of  the  Sun  of  justice  and  of   truth.     The 
tiara  of   the  high  priest  was  losing  its  last 


.  Joseph. 

ughty  and  the  rich ; 
Lamb  without  spot, 
,  the  blood  of    the 

ffered  to  His  Father, 
8  ransom  has  been 
0  be  the  Priest  and 
lice,  more  perfect  in 
us  than  all  those  of 
synagogue  began  to 
ch,  bright  with  the 
ure ;  thus,  Christian- 
leekness,  and  of  hu- 
the  old  Jewish  and 
ile  fear  as  from  the 
iter  upon  an  immense 
)f  regeneration.     The 
)in  was  enveloped  the 
future  glory  was  an- 
t  Aggeus  to  the  Jews 
•e  opening  to  the  rays 
and  of   truth.     The 
,t  was  losing  its  last 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


103 


gem;  the  precious  stones  of  his  "rational" 
were,  shedding  their  last  rays.  The  society 
of  which  ho  was  the  head  was  soon  to  be,  in 
regard  to  Jesus  Christ,  but  an  old  and  cruel 
stepmother,  drunk  with  wrath  and  envy. 

The  Holy  Family  was  about  to  leave  the 
sacred  enclosure  wherein  so  many  incompre- 
hensible mysteries  were  accomplished,  and 
retrace  the  way  to  their  humble  dwelling, 
when  the  spirit  of  the  prophets,  the  last  sub- 
lime power  of  the  Mosaic  legislation,  came, 
in  the  person  of  Simeon  and  Anna,  to  bear 
its  testimony,  too,  to  the  future  King  of 
Israel. 

Simeon,  a  just  and  God-fearing  man,  spent 
his  days  in  expectation  of  the  Desired  of 
nations;  and,  as  the  price  of  his  hope,  the 
Holy  Ghost,  whose  voice  never  deceives  when 
it  speaks,  had  told  him  thailns  eyes  should 
not  close  in  death  until  he  had  seen  the 
Christ.  At  the  moment  when  Mary  and  Jo- 
seph were  ascending  the  steps  of  the  sac- 
red enclosure,  the  pious  old  man  feels  him- 


104 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


self  moved  interiorlyby  the  irresistible  force 
of    the  Divine   Spirit;   he  goes    forth  from 
his  dwelling,  he   directs  his  tottering  steps 
towards  the  temple,  sustained  by  the  ardor 
of  his  desires.     On  the   threshold  of  God's 
house,  amongst   the  mothers  who   are  there 
in  crowds  with  their  infants,  his  inspired  eyes 
have  soon  recognized  the  fruitful  Virgin  fore- 
told by  Isaiah,  and  his  heart  flies  to  the  new- 
born Babe  she  holds  in  her  arms.    Mary, 
instructed  by  the  same  Holy  Spirit,  allows 
the  old  man  to  approach;  she  places  m  his 
trembhng  arms  the  dear  object  of  her  love. 
Happy  Simeon,  livmg  image  of  the  ancient 
world,  grown  old  in  expectation,  and  ready 
to  fall:  scarcely  has  he  received  the  sweet 
Fruit  of  Life,  when  his  youth  is  renewed  like 
that  of  the  eagle.    In  him  is  accomplished 
the  marvelous  transformation  which  is  to  be 
wrought  in  the  human  race,  when  once  Cath- 
-     olicity  is  substituted  for  the  ancient  idolatry. 

From  the  blessed  lips  of  the  old  man  es- 
'     cape  that  beautiful  hymn  of   thanksgiving: 


Joseph. 

e  irresistible  force 
)  goes    forth  from 
iiis  tottering  steps 
lined  by  the  ardor 
threshold  of   God's 
ers  who   are  there 
;s,  his  inspired  eyes 
fruitful  Virgin  fore- 
art  flies  to  the  new- 
,  her  arms.    Mary, 
Holy  Spirit,  allows 
l;  she  places  in  his 

object  of  her  love, 
nage  of  the  ancient 
)ectation,  and  ready 

received  the  sweet 
i^outh  is  renewed  like 
him  is  accomplished 
lation  which  is  to  be 
•ace,  when  once  Cath- 
the  ancient  idolatry. 
3  of  the  old  man  es- 
mn  of   thanksgiving: 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


105 


"Now,  Thou    dost  dismiss  Thy  servant,   0 
Lord,  according  to  Thy  word,  in  peace.    Be- 
cause my  eyes  have  seen  Thy  salvation,  which 
Thou  hast  prepared   before   the  face  of   all 
peoples  :  a  light  to  the  revelation  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, and  the  glory  of  Thy  people,  Israel." 
After  these  words,  he  restores  to  the  arras  of 
tlie  Most  Pure  Mother  the  Son  she  is  about 
to  oflfer  to  the  Lord,  blesses  the  spouses,  and 
in  the  inspiration  that  animates  him,  he  fore- 
sees the   bloody  expiation   of   the  Golgotha. 
"This  child,"  he  exclaims,  after  a  grave  and 
mournful  silence,  "is  come  for  the  ruin  and 
the  resurrection  of  many  in  Israel,  and  for  a 
sign  that  shall  be  contradicted.    Thine  own 
soul,  O  Mary,  a  sword  shall  pierce,  that  out 
of  many  hearts  thoughts  may  be  revealed," 
adds  the  old  man;  and  very  soon  his  soul, 
disengaged  from  the  bonds  of  the  body,  goes 
forth  to  bear  to  the  elect  who  repose  in  Abra- 
ham's bosom  the  news  of  the  peace  that  is 
appearing  on  earth  and  will  soon  throw  hea- 
ven open  to  them. 


106 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


There  was  also  in  Jerusalem  a  prophetess 
named  Anna,  daughter  of   Phanuel,  of   the 
tribe  of  Aser.    This  widow,  illustrious  by  her 
piety,  and  venerable  to  all  the  people  by  her 
gi-eat  age,    dwelt  constantly  in  the  temple, 
offering  her  prayers  and  fasts  to  God  night 
and  day  ;  and,  when  she  had  heard  the  Can- 
ticle of   Simeon,  she  also  set  about  celebra- 
ting  the  auspicious  coming  of  the   Child  o! 
Promise.     And  Mary,  ever  Virgin,   pressmg 
to  her  heart  the  Divme  Emmanuel,  and  ac 
companied  by  her  faithful  spouse,  descended 
tJxe  steps  of  the   temple,  and  in  silence  re- 
gained  the  village  where  she  dwelt. 


,  Joseph. 

salem  a  prophetess 
jf   Pbanuel,  of   the 
w,  illustrious  by  her 
11  the  people  by  her 
ntly  in  the  temple, 
.  fasts  to  God  night 
had  heard  the  Can- 
lo  set  about  celebra- 
ing  of  the   Child  o! 
iver  Virgin,   pressing 
Emmanuel,  and  ac- 
ful  spouse,  descended 
e,  and  in  silence  re- 
I  she  dwelt. 


XIII. 
THE  PALM  GROVE. 

[HE  holy  old  man  Simeon  had.^as 
we  have  related,  foretold  to  the 
Virgin  Mary  that  a  sword  of  sor- 
row should  pierce  her  heart;  and 
it  was  written  in  heaven  that  these  words 
were  soon  to  be  accomplished. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  February  when 
the  voice  of  Jehovah  broke  by  night  on  the 
peaceful  sleep  of  Joseph,  and  these  were  the 
words  he  heard:  "Arise,  and  take  the  Child 
and  his  Mother,  and  fly  into  Egypt;  and  be 
there  until  I  shall  tell  thee. .  For  it  will  come 
to  pass  that  Herod  will  seek  the  Child  to  de- 
stroy Him." 

The  echo  of  the  mysterious  revelation  was 
still  soundmg  in  Joseph's  ears,  when,  going 
hastily  to  the  door  of  his  holy  Spouse's  room, 


M-«->—- wr-"»"-r 


108 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


he  sftid,  in  a  trembling  voice :  "  Mary,  arise 
quickly,  take  Jesus  in  tliino  arms,  and  prepare 
to  set  out  on  a  long  and  perilous  journey."- 

Mary,  who  was  by  the  side  of  her  Son's 
cradle,  went  quickly  to  open  the  door  for  her 
husband. 

"To  leave  Nazareth!"  said  the  Virgin. 
"•Whither,  then,  would  the  Lord  have  us 
bend  our  steps?" 

"Into  Egypt;  so  God  commands.  Herod 
is  seeking  for  the  Child,  that  he  may  put  Him 
to  death."  • 

Mary  groans  pitoously,  and,  bending  over 
her  Son's  cradle,  embraces  Him  fondly,  and 
clasps  Him  to  her  bosom,  as  if  to  shield  Him 
from  the  murderous  dagger. 

The  Divine  Child  awoke,  giving  His  dis- 
mayed Mother  an  angelic  smile;  that  smile, 
like  the  sunbeam  after  the  storm,  quieted  the 
Virgin's  troubled  mind.  Turning  to  her  holy 
spouse,  she  says:  "Joseph,  fear  nothing; 
Jesus  smiles,  and  His  smile  is  like  the  evening 
rainbow  dispelling  the  stormy  clouds," 


,  Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


109 


wee  :  "  Mary,  ariao 

0  arras,  and  prepare 
jrilous  journey."' 

1  side  of  her  Son's 
on  tlio  door  for  her 

"   said    tho   Virgin, 
the    Lord   have  us 

commands.     Herod 
lat  he  may  put  Him 

* 
,  and,  bending  over 
les  Him  fondly,  and 

as  if  to  shield  Him 
ar. 

oke,  giving  His  dis- 
ic  smile ;  that  smile, 
e  storm,  quieted  the 

Turning  to  her  holy 
iseph,  fear  nothing; 
ile  is  like  the  evening 
ormy  clouds." 


"  God  commands  us  to  do  what  I  have  told 
thee,"  answered  tho  patriarch. 

"  Let  us  go,  then,"  added  Mary,  with  holy 
resignation,  "and  may  Jehovah,  from  the 
highest  heavens,  watch  over  us !  " 

The  spoitses  quickly  prepared  what  was 
needful  for  the  journey ;  but,  alas !  they  were 
80  poor,  that  in  a  few  moments  all  was  ready. 

The  earthly  Trinity  set  out  from  Nazareth, 
with  tearful  eyes  and  sorrowing  hearts,  when 
the  star  of  night  was  mid-way  on  its  mystic 
course. 

The  Angel  had  announced  to  Joseph  a  great 
danger,  but  he  had  not  told  hun  how  he  should 
avoid  it. 

From  Nazareth  to  Egypt  there  was  a  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  and  sixty  leagues.  How 
was  that  long  journey  to  be  made  ?  A  new 
obstacle  presented  itself.  How  were  they  to 
cross  the  sandy  plains  of  the  desert  with  no 
other  conveyance  than  a  poor  ass?  How 
could  they  avoid  the  bands  of  Arabs  whom 

even  the  best-armed  caravans  could  not  re- 

10 


I 


110  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 

siBt?  Our  poor  travellers  will  have  only  tears 
and  suppUcations  wherewith  to  oppose  the 
weapons  of  the  enemy. 

'     The  day  was  already  beginning  to  dawn, 
and   the  fugitives,  who  were  yet  no  farther 
than  the  tribe  of  Zabulon.-fearh.g  lest  they 
xnight  bo  discovered  by  the  soldiers  of  Herod, 
concealed  themselves  in  a  grove  of  palms,  the 
Bolitudo  and  dense  «haxie  of  which  promised 
them  shelter  during  the  hours  of  day.    The 
„,„rmur  of  the  waters  of  a  neighboring  stream, 
the  sighing  of  the  breeze  amid  the  branches, 
together  with  the  tender  cooing  of  the  turtle. 
and  the  measured  song  of  the  sparrow,  charm- 
ed with  their  melodious  echoes  the  sojourn  of 
the  fugitives  in  that  hospitable  vale. 

The  smile  of  the  innocent  child,  the  tran- 
sparent sky.  and  the  balmy  air  of  the  fields, 
were  beginning  to  calm  the  anguish  of  Mary  s 
heart,  when  Joseph,  who  was  busy  preparmg 
their  simple  repast,  stopped  short  all  at  once, 
and  stood  listening  with  an  anxious  ear,  then 
said :  "  Didst  thou  not  hear,  Mary?  " 


clui 


^■;#*,*6>.*B««*l*-^**  ■  ■ 


r.  Joseph. 

1  will  liiive  only  tears 
with  to  oppose  the 

beginning  to  dawn, 
were  y«t  no  farther 
,ii^_  fearing  lest  they 
;he  soldiers  of  Herod, 
a  grovo  of  palms,  the 
le  of  which  promised 
i  hours  of  day.    The 
a  neighboring  stream, 
e  amid  the  branches, 
r  cooing  of  the  turtle, 
of  the  sparrow,  charm- 
echoes  the  sojourn  of 
ipitable  vale, 
aocent  child,  the  tran- 
,almy  air  of  the  fields, 
I  the  anguish  of  Mary's 
ho  was  busy  preparing 
)pped  short  all  at  once, 
th  an  anxious  ear,  then 
hear,  Mary?" 


Leqknds  op  St.  Joseph. 


Ill 


The  young  Virgin  listened  a  moment,  sud- 
denly turned  pale,  and  instantly  clasped  her 
beloved  Son  to  her  heart. 

The  Child  smiled  no  more,  the  cooing  of  the 
doves  was  no  longer  hoard,  and  the  song  of  the 
birds  had  ceased.  At  this  moment  a  dark 
cloud  obscured  the  sun's  radiant  disc. 

"  I  hear,"  murmured  Maiy,  in  a  low  voice, 
"a  sound  Uke  the  clash  of  arms  and  the 
tramping  of  horses,  at  the  opposite  extremity 
of  this  valley." 

"Yes,  on  the  mountain  side,  towards  the 
Roman  road  that  leads  to  Uspies.     But  it  is 
doubtless  some  merchants  from  Ptolemaide  or 
Tyre,  retracing  their  homeward  way." 
"  If  they  were  Herodians  1 "  said  Mary,  with 

shrinking  dread. 
"  Have  no  fear,"  said  Joseph,  "  this  vale  is 

far  from  the  high  road." 
A  few  moments  and  the  tramping  of  horses 

was  heard  distinctly.    Mary  hid  Jesus  in  the 

folds  of  her  large  loose  cloak,  and  raised  her 

supplicating  eyes  to  heaven. 


112 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


JoHoph,  on  his  side,  stood-muto  and  motioii- 
lesH,  l....kii.K  sadly  towards  tho  placo  whonco 
tho  Homuls  that  so  alarmed  him  sceu.od  to 

proceed. 

A  clear,  manly  voice,  was  soon  heard  sinR- 
ing  a  martial  air,  the  rin«iiiK  notes  of  which 
reached  the  ears  of  the  fugitives,  where  they 
sat  beneath  tho  lofty  palm-trees. 

"They  are  llomans,"  murmured  Joseph. 
"  I  cannot  understand  their  words." 

Mary  remained  silent,  pressing  her  Divine 

Son  to  her  bosom. 

Nearer  and  nearer  the  voices  came,  and 
soon  the  breeze  bore  to  the  ears  of  tho  Holy 
Family  the  words  of  a  Koinan  song.  A  mo- 
ment after,  the  voice  ceased.  The  steps  of  the 
horses  were  heard  quite  near  the  thicket.  The 
fugitives  hardly  breathed. 

The  glitter  of  the  Boman  helmets  and  the 
soldiers'  arras  were  now  seen  through  the 
thick  foliage.  Mary  was  seized  with  fear,  and 
turning  her  mild  eyes  upward,  she  said,  m 
piteous  tones :  "  Oh !  beautiful  palm-tree,  that 


'ii^e-^ifip;^**'!'^'^^****' 


Joseph. 


Legenpb  of  St.  Joseph. 


113 


xl-muto  and  motioii- 
[h  tho  place  whonco 
uod  liim  sceiDud  to 

■as  Hoon  luuinl  siiip- 
if^iiif?  notes  of  whicli 
fugitives,  where  they 
in-tvees. 

niunmired  Joseph, 
oir  words." 

pressing  her  Divine 

he  voices  canio,  and 

the  ears  of  tho  Holy 

Koinan  song.     A  uio- 

ised.    The  steps  of  the 

near  the  thicket.  The 

d. 

)man  helmets  and  the 
ow  seen  through  the 
IS  seized  with  fear,  and 
1  upward,  she  said,  in 
eautiful  palm-tree,  that 


roarcBt  thy  mighty  top  to  heaven,  thou  who 
sat  nearer  Jehovah  than  thin  poor  Moth.^r,  • 
tell  Him  not  to  abandon  my  innocent  Child  !  '• 
At  this  moment  the  tree  bent  down  to  the 
ground,  the  large  leaves  of  its  broad  green 
crown  covering  the  Holy  Family. 

The  Hohliers  of  Herod  passed  close  by  the 
protecting  palm-tree  without  seeing  those 
whom  its  thick  foliage  concealed. 

Some  thirty  paces  distant  was  a  fountain 
whose  clear  and  limpid  waters  oflferod  refresh- 
ment to  the  soldiers.  But  whilst  they  were 
quenching  their  thirst  and  chatting  about  the 
object  of  their  journey,  God  sent  to  the  Holy 
Family  a  refreshing  sleep,  doubtless  in  order 
that  the  afflicted  Mother  might  not  hear  the 
conversation  of  her  Child's  persecutors. 


>«Q1 


•  ^ 


XIV. 

THE  GOOD  THIEF. 

RAVING  enjoyed  a  sweet,  refreshing 
sleep  in  the  shade  of  the  hospita- 
ble palm-tree,  Mary  and  Joseph 
awoke,  just  when  the  silvery  rays 
of  the  moon,  penetrating  the  foliage,  rested 
i,»  calm  beauty  on  the  brow  of  Jesus. 

A  smile  of  inexpressible  tenderness  played 
on  the  lips  of  the  Holy  Child,  and  a  loving 
glance  directed  towards  His  Mother  renewed 
in  the  heart  of  the  Nazarene  Vu'gm  all  the 
courage  her  soul  required  in  order  to  con- 
tinue that  painful  journey. 

"Is  this  a  dream?"  said  she,  pressmg  her 
Sou  to  h.r  heart.  « He  who  is  the  Life  of 
nxy  life  still  lives !  God  of  goodness  His  ^- 
pious  persecutors  have  not,  then,  shed  His 
precious  blood!" 


C  ire^tV^jL^***^  -'-J  >■  '  ■••^■^ 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


115 


XIV. 

OOB  THIEF. 

ajoyed  a  sweet,  refreshing 
the  shade  of  the  hospita- 
n-tree,  Mary  and  Joseph 
just  when  the  silvery  rays 
trating  the  foUage,  rested 
he  brow  of  Jesus, 
ressible  tenderness  played 
Holy  Child,  and  a  loving 
mrds  His  Mother  renewed 
e  Nazarene  Virgin  all  the 
required  in  order  to  con- 
journey. 

m?"said  she,  pressing  her 

"He  who  is  the  Life  of 

God  of  goodness.  His  im- 

have  not,  then,  shed  His 


"Yes,  Mary,  yes,"  answered  Joseph,  "the 
Angels  of  God  announce  danger  to  us,  and 
the  mighty  hand  of  the  Lord  makes  us  avoid 
it.  But  time  is  precious,  and  the  night  will 
protect  our  march  till  we  have  reached  the  . 
frontiers  of  Syria;  then  only  shall  we  begin 
to  be  in  safety." 

At  these  words,  the  poor  Virgin  arose,  and 
arming  herself  with  that  courage  only  pos- 
sessed  by  mothers  when  the  life  of  their  chU- 
dren  is  in  danger,  she  quitted  the  hospitable 
wood,  and  foUowed  her  spouse  with  the  res- 
ignation of  a  martyr. 

In  this  painful  voyage,  what  troubles,  what 
bitterness,  what  mortifications  awaited  the 
Holy  Spouses ! 

At  that  period,  bands  of  robbers  were  rav- 
aging Palestine,  profiting  by  the  hatred  of 
the  Jews  for  the  Eoman  soldiers;  every  day 
they  committed  scandalous  robberies,  horri- 
ble* murders,  and  the  traders  of  the  neigh- 
boring  countries  could  only  travel  weU  armed 
and  in  caravans. 


I 


I 


116  Legends  OF  St.  Joseph. 

By  day,  the  Holy  Family  took  refuge  in  the 
Jl  seLed  caves,  waiting  for  the  s^ad. 

of  night,  to  continue  their  journey.    In  this 
Ja^the;  reached,  after  many  perils,  the  con. 

fines  of  Samaria. 

Now,  one  nigM,  -hen  the  weathor  "^  cold 
J  v«W.««  Holy  Spouses,  «ith  the  Dm™ 

7L,  we  travelling  .lo»g  a  .leep  and  looelj 
tt;,wUen  St.  Joseph,  walking  in  tront,  was 

stopped  by  a  harsh,  i,npe.ious  jo.ce,  saymg. 
"Halt  there,  or  yon  are  dead. 

Mary,  frightened  at  the  *ought  that  to 
barbarous  man  was  going  to  '"ke  her  ClnW 
away  from  her.  hid  Him  in  the  folds  of  he 

"  T^'  was  the  second  time,  since  leaving 
Nazareth,  that  her  mysterions  journey  had 
been  interrupted  by  the  voice  of  men.  Be^ 
tee  the  unfortunate  traveUers  had  trme  to 
think  of  the  danger  that  threatened  then, 
Z  saw  themselves  surrounded  by  a  crow 
of  men  who  came  out  from  amongst  the] 
tlwld  and  brambles  of  the  ravine.  Dag- 


lier 
thus 


t 


ii,».»«=«Btaiwv»a«w« 


irinim.*"^'"*— j*^" 


c.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


117 


ily  took  refuge  in  the 
liting  for  the  shades  ,| 
eir  journey.    In  this 
many  perils,  the  con- 

the  weather  was  cold 
,use8,  with  the  Divine 
ong  a  deep  and  lonely 
,  walking  in  front,  was 
iperious  voice,  saying: 
e  dead!" 

the  thought  that  this 
,ing  to  take  her  Child 
im  in  the  folds  of  her 

ad  time,  since  leaving 
aysterious  journey  had 
the  voice  of  men.    Be- 
travellers  had  time  to 
that  threatened  them, 
surrounded  by  a  crowd 
out   from  amongst  the 
bles  of  the  ravine.   Dag- 


gers were  already  flashing  above  their  heads, 
when  St.  Joseph  said,  in  tones  of  mild  en- 
treaty : 

"What  harm  have  this  poor  Mother  and 
lier  innocent  Child  done  to  you,  that  you 
thus  raise  your  arms  against  them?" 

"Old  man,  thou  art  right,"  said  a  strong 
masculine  voice ;  "  these  men  will  not  injure 
voa  in  any  way  ;  they  will  swear  it,  and  I  am 
.  sure  they  will  keep  their  oath." 

He  who  thus  spoke  was  named  Dim  as.  In 
his  youth  he  had  known  the  practice  of  vir- 
tue ;  but  a  crime  committed  through  paternal 
love  threw  him  into  the  way  of  crime,  and, 
on  account  of  his  courage,  he  had  been 
chosen  as  captain  by  this  band  of  robbers. 

He  had  no  sooner  spoken  than  a  passage 
opened  through  his  companions,  and  ap- 
proaching Joseph,  who  was  mute  and  motion- 
less with  surprise,  he  again  said  ; 

"  Fear  nothing,  old  man ;  thy  wiiite  hairs 
are  thy  security.  And  as  for  that  poor  wo- 
man who  clasps  her  child  so  tenderly,  fearful 


r: 


'.ii,. 

f: 


118  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 

that  he  may  be  taken  from  her,  thou  mayest 
reassure  her:   she  is  in  no  danger  from  us. 
If  anv  one  dared  to  harm  her,  our  dagger 
would  soon  deal  out  justice.    But  the  night 
is  cold,  and  I  see  the  poor  young  woman  is 
suffering  from  the  rain:  here,  put  n.y  doak 
around   her."      And  Dimas,  taking  off   the 
goafs  skin  garment  that  covered  his  shoul- 
ders,  gave  it  to  Joseph. 

"Oh.  thanks,  thanks,  kind,  compassionate 
man!  May  Jehovah  reward  thpe  as  thou 
deservest,  at  the  hour  of  thy  death."  And 
Joseph,  shedding  tears  of  gratitude,  co^M3red 
his   spouse   and  her  Son  with  the  robbers 

cloak.  .,,    ,, 

"Now,  good  old  man,  foUow  me  with  thy 
spouse.  My  stronghold  is  close  by,  and  1 
hope  thou  wilt  accept  the  hospitality  I  offer 
till  the  tempest  roaring  above  our  heads  has 
somewhat  subsided." 

The  holy  travellers  accepted  the  captains 
offer,  and  some  moments  after  they  were  m- 
stalled  in  the  kitchen  of  the  rude  fortress. 


an( 


chi 


If 


"ewtassisrwiiS^s^isftiJfe^--  -'' 


.,iMSa*»iSS»il**Sffl*»«P*'"" 


aXiStralWMKi"**"****"*' 


r.  Joseph 

•om  her,  tho\i  mayest 
no  danger  from  us. 
arm  her,  our  dagger 
stice.  But  the  night 
poor  young  woman  is 
;  here,  put  my  rloak 
limas,  taking  off  the 
at  covered  his  shoul- 

I,  kind,  compassionate 
reward  thpe  as  thou 
of  thy  death."  And 
1  of  gratitude,  covered 
3on  with  the  robber's 

in,  follow  me  with  thy 
Id  is  close  by,  and  1 
;  the  hospitality  I  offei 
ig  above  our  heads  has 

accepted  the  captains 
ents  after  they  were  in- 
n  of  the  rude  fortress. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


119 


where  Dimas  had  a  large  fire  made,  so  as  to 
dry  their  drenched  garments! 

The  robber  chief  treated  his  guests  with 
tlie  utmost  care  and  attention.  He  had  a 
plentiful  meal  served  to  them,  and  with  his 
own  hands  prepared  two  beds  with  cloaks 
and  skins,  so  that  they  might  rest  after  the 
fatigue  of  their  journey. 

Before  retirmg,  he  asked  the  Mother  if  she 
would  allow  him  to  kiss  her  little  Child;  and 
Mary  presented  her  Son,  saying : 

"Kiss   my  Son,  since    thou  dost   protect 

Him." 

Dimas  kissed  the  Babe  and  withdrew. 
When  once  more  alone  with  his  comrades, 
he  told  them:  "I  know  not  what  I  felt 
within  me  when  my  lips  touched  that  Child ; 
but,  since,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  breathe 
more  freely,  and  that  aU  my  blood  has  been 
purified  by  His  touch.  A  little  while  after, 
and  all  were  asleep  within  the  castle. 

Next  morning,  when  Dimas  entered- the 
1  chamber  of  his  guests,  they  received  him  with 


CIS 


120  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 

a  su^ile  of  Qr.^^^^r^o.v^i.h\e  brigand 
had  the  morning  meal  prepared,  and  requent. 
ed  the  Holy  Family  to  go  out  and  take  the 

air  in  front  of  the  castle. 

»  The  day  is  fine,"  said  he  ;  "  come  with  me, 
that  your  Son  may  breathe  the  pure  mountain 
air.    Mary  and  Joseph  followed  Djma^  -- 
„,iring  the  robber's  kindness  of  heart.    A   for 
The  latter,  he  was  so  fascinated  by  the  look 
of  Jesus,  that  he  could  not  keep  his  eyes  a 
moment  from  his  face. 

When  they  reached  the  court-yard.  Dimas 
took  Jesus  in  his  arms,  and,  sho^ving  Him 
through  the  loop-holes  some  flocks  that  ^re 

grazing  near  the  castle  moat,  he  said  to  Him 

in  a  kindly  tone  :— 

"Seest  Thou  those  sheep  that  are  grazmg 
quietly  in  the  shadow  of  these  walls.  They 
are  ours,  and  that  little  lamb,  white  as  its  mo- 
ther's milk,  is  Thine :  I  give  it  to  Thee  tha 

Thou    mayst    recall   the    hospitality    offered] 
Thee  by  the  brigand  of  the  mountains  of  Sa- 
maria." 


her 


S4-»i»«"«»8*«*«*****" 


Joseph. 

hospitable  brigand 
pared,  and  requeat- 
>  out  and  take  the 

he  ;  "  come  with  me, 
ie  the  pure  mountain 
followed  Dimas,  ad- 
css  of  heart.  As  for 
scinated  by  the  look 
not  keep  his  eyes  a 

he  court-yard,  Dimas 

3,  and,  showing  Him 

3ome  flocks  that  were 

moat,  he  said  to  Him 

heep  that  are  grazing 
of  these  walls.  They 
lamb,  white  as  its  mo- 
I  give  it  to  Thee,  that 
he  hospitality  offered 
E  the  mountains  of  Sa- 


Leqends  of  St.  Joseph. 


121 


Jesus  smiled  as  if  he  understood  these 
words,  and  His  tiny  hands  stroked  down  the 
bandit's  hair.  The  tender  Virgin  silently  wept 
tears  of  gratitude,  while  contemplating  this 
man  bound  to  the  way  of  crime,  who  treated 
her  Son  so  kindly. 

The  Holv  Family  remained  in  the  castle  till 
sunset.  During  their  stay  tliey  were  con- 
stantly treated  by  the  captain  with  the  utmost 
kindness  and  attention.  But  the  moment  of 
departure  came  at  last. 

Whilst  St.  Joseph  assisted  Mary  to  place 
herself  on  the  peaceful  ass,  Dimas  held  the 
Child  in  his  arms.  Jesus,  as  though  He  would 
reward  him  who  had  received  Him  so  kindly, 
put  His  little  arms  around  the  bandit's  neck. 
Then  Dimas  heard  a  sweet,  melodious  voice, 
Uke  the  sound  of  an  ^olian  harp  when  the 
night  wind  stirs  its  strings,  and  it  said  :— 

"Thy  death  shall  be  glorious,  and  Thou 
shalt  die  with  Me." 

Dimas  was  struck  dumb— astounded  by  such 
la  prodigy.    Whence  came  those  mysterious 


SiVil*-s(te*«M>*^*"*'- 


122 


Leqends  of  St.  Joseph. 


^1 


accents?  Who  had  spoken  those  words?  The 
Child  in  his  arms  was  scarcely  four  months 

old. 

Feeling  that  his  strength  was  failing,  and 
fearing  lest  the  mysterious  Child  should  fall 
from  his  arms,  Dimas  placed  Him  again  in 
those  of  His  Mother,  who  received  Him  with 
a  loving  smile.  Then  the  Holy  Family,  after 
thanking  their  host,  quitted  the  castle. 

Dimas  stood  motionless,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  holy  personages  who  were  receding  from 
his  view,  till  at  last  they  disappeared  behind 
the  mountains.  At  length,  stretching  out  his 
arms  in  the  direction  they  had  taken,  he  cried, 
with  an  indefinable  feeling  :— 

"  O  Thou,  the  fairest  of  the  children  of  men, 
and  blessed  above  all,  if  Thou  canst  one  day 
let  me  hear  a  word  of  mercy,  remember  me, 
and  be  mindful  of  my  hospitality!" 

Two-and-thirty  years  after,  Christ  on  the 
Cross  rewarded  the  charitable  hospitaUty  of 
the  good  thief  by  these  words:  "This  day 
thou  shalt  be  with  Me  in  Paradise ! " 


^-^ 


,  Joseph. 

I  those  words  ?  The 
sarcely  four  months 

;th  was  failing,  and 
IS  Child  should  fall 
aced  Him  again  in 
I  received  Him  with 
3  Holy  Family,  after 
id  the  castle. 
IS,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
were  receding  from 
disappeared  behind 
h,  stretching  out  his 
r  had  taken,  he  cried, 
J  • — 

3  ■ 

:  the  children  of  men, 
Thou  canst  one  day 
nercy,  remember  me, 
3pitaUty!" 

after,  Christ  on  the 

ritable  hospitaUty  of 

e  words:  "This  day] 

Paradise  1 " 


XV. 

THE  CARAVAN. 

lAZA,  a  maritime  city  of  the  East, 
the  precious  gem  of  the  Philis- 
tines, whose  walls  are  perpetually 
washed  by  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
was,  from  time  immemorial,  the  meeting-place 
of  caravans  trading  with  Egypt.  Near  this 
city  the  Holy  Family  arrived  one  morning  at 
dawn,  after  travelling  for  several  days.  The 
suflferings  endured  by  our  Galilean  travellers 
during  the  journey  were  very  severe. 

Their  usual  refuge  during  the  day  hours 
were  lonely  grottoes,  gloomy  caverns,  damp 
ravines,  or  wild  woods.  But  if  they  had  great 
dangers  to  avoid,  they  had  difficulties  no  less 
I  great  to  overcome.  Joseph  stopped  by  a  syca- 
more tree,  and,  having  assisted  his  spouse  to 
alight,  he  placed  her  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the 


124 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


tree.  Ho  then  freed  the  ass  from  its  light 
burden,  the  little  baggage  that  formed  the  sole 
patrimony  of  the  Holy  Family. 

Dimas  had  kept  his  word,  for  a  little  white 
lamb  began  to  jump  around  Mary,  who,  with 
fond,  motherly  care,  showed  her  Sou  the  rob- 
ber's gift. 

"Mary,"  said  Joseph,  after  finishing  his 
work,  "  God  has  vouchsafed  to  guide  and  pro- 
tect us  to  the  borders  of  the  desert.  He  will 
bring  us  forth  safe  and  sound  from  amid  the 
awful  solitudes  we  are  soon  to  traverse." 

"  In  God  abideth  all  power ;  from  Him  are 
all  that  mortals  admire  of  great  and  wonder- 
ful," meekly  replied  the  august  Virgin. 

"Thy  resignation  doth  comfo/t  me  much, 
Mary;  but  I  am  about  to  leave  thee  for  a 
short  space.  We  must  sell  a  part  of  our 
effects,  so  that  the  journey  may  be  less  pain- 
ful. We  are  poor;  but  I  hope  we  may  still 
have  the  sum  required  to  pay  our  passage 
in  the  first  caravan  bound  for  Egypt." 

Thereupon   Joseph,  taking  with    him   his 


[•.  Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph, 


126 


3  ass  from  its  light 

that  formed  tho  sole 

imily. 

ord,  for  a  little  white 

ind  Mary,  who,  with 

ed  her  Sou  the  rob- 
after  finishing    hie 

fed  to  guide  and  pro- 
the  desert.     He  will 

lOund  from  amid  the 

on  to  traverse." 

}ower  ;  from  Him  are 

of  great  and  wonder- 

lugust  Virgin. 

ti  comfo/t  me  much, 
to  leave  thee  for  a 
sell  a  part  of    our 

ley  may  be  less  pain- 
I  hope  we  may  still 
to  pay  our  passage 

md  for  Egypt." 

laking  with    him   his 


humble  beast,  directed  his  steps  towards  the 
city  of  Gaza,  whose  walls  arose  some  three 
hundred  paces  from  there. 

Mary  remained  alone,  with  her  Adorable 
Son,  sitting  at  the  foot  of  tho  sycamore.  A 
tear  moistened  her  eyelids.  That  tear  was 
the  Virgin's  mute  and  sad  farewell  to  the 
peaceful  animal  which  had  done  her  such 
good  service  during  her  journey,  and  with 
which  she  was  now  parting  for  ever,  since 
her  spouse  was  taking  him  to  Oaza  with  the 
intention  of  selling  him. 

Having  wiped  away  her  tears,  she  spread 
a  skin  on  the  smooth  sward,  and  laid  her  Son 
upon  it.  Then  she  went  to  work  to  arrange 
on  a  large  palm-leaf  the  materials  for  their 
frugal  repast,  so  that  her  spouse  might  find 
it  Teady  on  his  return. 

Intent  on  her  occupations,  Mary  had  not 
perceived  that  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
tree  that  served  her  and  hers  as  a  shelter 
arose  two  Arab  tents,  around  which  ten  or 
twelve  dromedaries  were  lying.    Neither  had 


«*^«ii»'*-"** 


126 


Lkoendb  op  St.  Joheph. 


she  roinaikod  that  Home  men  wero  going  to 
a  neighboiiiiK  fountain,  unci  filling  largn  leath- 
ern bottU'8,  which  thoy  then  caiufnily  placed 
on  the  niched  back  of  tlieir  dionxjdavy. 

Amongst  these  men  there  wuk  an  Arab 
advanc(!d  in  ycarH,  and  who  appeared  to  bo 
chief  of  all  the  others,  for  he  gave  them  his 
orders,  in  a  low  voice,  without  taking  any  part 
in  the  fatiguing  labors  of  his  companions. 

The  old  man  walked,  with  folded  arms,  by 
the  side  of  the  tents  as  far  as  the  spring. 
For  a  moment  his  eyes  rested  on  the  syca- 
more which  sheltered  the  Virgin  and  her 
Child.  Seeing  Mary,  the  Arab  was  disturbed, 
as  though  he  had  recognized  in  her  a  person 
of  his  acquaintance.  He  then  remained  a 
moment  undecided,  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the 
Galilean. 

■  The  latter,  solely  intent  on  her  Son,  had 
not  perceived  that  she  was  the  object  of  crit- 
ical attention  on  the  part  of  the  Arab.  At 
length  the  silent  observer  of  the  Virgin,  with 
that  peculiar  motion  of  the  head  which  indi- 


slig 
I 

the 

<i 

crei 
the 


cit^ 


wh 

wh 

< 

dui 


fOfiEPH. 

on  woro  going  to 
filling  largi!  lonth- 
tt  cnvufnlly  placed 
r  tlronuuliivy. 
sre  wiiH   an  Arab 

0  appeared  to  bo 
he  gavo  them  his 
ut  taking  any  part 
lis  companions. 

h  folded  arms,  by 
far  as  the  spring, 
isted  on  the  syca- 

Virgin  and  her 
rab  was  disturbed, 
;ed  in  her  a  person 

then  remained  a 
B  still  fixed  on  the 

1  on  her  Son,  had 
,  the  object  of  crit- 

of  the  Arab.  At 
of  the  Virgin,  with 
B  head  which  indi- 


Leoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


127 


oates  a  resolution  taken  after  some  moments 
of  indecision,  advanced  towards  the  tree  that 
shaded  Jesus  and  Mary. 

"Wonuvn,  peace  be  with  thee!"  he  said, 
slightly  bending  his  head. 

"Arab,  may  Heaven  be  propitious  to 
thee!"  quietly  answered  the  Virgin. 

"  Forgive  nio,  if  my  question  appear  indis- 
cre((t ;  but,  judging  from  thy  features,  I  deem 
thee  of  Galilee." 

"  Nazareth  is  my  home." 

"Was  not  thy  Son  Kkewiso  born  in  that 
city,  the  flower  of  Galilee?" 

"  In  Bethlehem  of  Juda  was  He  born." 

"  Then  thou  art  Mary,  the  blessed  Mother 
whom  Abraham's  Angels  saluted,  and  to 
whom  the  Eastern  Kings  did  homage?" 

"  It  was  my  Son  to  whom  such  honor  Avas 
due." 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  ask  yet  another  question. 
For  whom  dost  thou  wait  here,  so  far  from 
thine  own  land?  Whither  art  thou  journey- 
ing?" 


?M.^«i-i  iA^«ae«?,!jfifci^.'fl*i«»'iWiiJAV-«'j. 


128 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


"  I  await  my  spouse ;  I  am  going  to  Egypt." 
"To  Egypt!"  cried  the  Arab,  in  surprise; 
but  I  see  no  camels,  nor  any  guide  to  con- 
duct thee!" 

"God  is  great  and  merciful!  Who  may 
read  His  designs?  I  only  know  that  I  am 
going  to  Egypt." 

The  mysterious  words  of  Mary,  the  sweet 
and  modest  dignity  of  her  accents,  moved  the 
aged  Arab,  who  immediately  replied : 

"  Favored  woman,  to  whom  kings  pay  their 
homage  whilst  thou  abidest  in  a  stable,  thou 
art    preparing   to    enter    into    the    immense 
deserts  of  Etham  and  Pharaam,  on  foot  and 
without  a  guide.    I  venerate  thee,  although  I 
cannot  comprehend  thee.     Say  to  thy  spouse, 
when  he  returns  from  the  city,  that  Hassaf, 
the  Arab  whom  he  saw  at  the  fountain  of 
Bethlehem,  sets  out  to-day  for  the  City  of 
the  Sun,  whence  he  will  afterwards  journey 
to   Alexandria,   and  that  he  offers  him  his 
friendship  and  his  camels  ;  should  he  accept, 
I  await  thee  in  my  tent." 


St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


129 


I  am  going  to  Egypt." 
the  Arab,  in  surprise; 
nor  any  guide  to  con- 
merciful!     Who  may 
only  know  that  I  am 

ds  of  Mary,  the  sweet 
her  accents,  moved  the 
[lately  replied ; 
>  whom  kings  pay  their 
aidest  in  a  stable,  thou 
ber    into    the    immense 

Pharaam,  on  foot  and 
snerate  thee,  although  I 
lee.  Say  to  thy  spouse, 
Q  the  city,  that  Hassaf, 
3aw  at  the  fountain  of 

to-day  for  the  City  of 
will  afterwards  journey 
that  he  offers  him  his 
mels ;  should  he  accept, 
it." 


An  hour  after  Joseph  returned  from  Gaza, 
and  rejoined  his  spouse,  his  face  sad  and 
careworn.  Mary  received  him  with  a  smile, 
and  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  dejection. 

"  What  aileth  thee,  my  dear  husband?"  she' 
sweetly  said. 

"  We  must  make  the  journey  alone,  with- 
out a  guide  to  show  us  the  unknown  way 
through  the  desert,  without  a  camel  to  short- 
en, for  us,  the  immense  solitudes  we  have  to 
traverse." 

"God  doth  not  forget  His  own,"  replied 
the  Virgin ;  "  whilst  thou  wert  seeking  a  car- 
avan that  would  receive  us  for  a  small  sum 
of  money,  God  sent  us  a  charitable  merchant, 
who  offers  to  conduct  us  to  Heliopolis." 

"  God  be  praised ! "  cried  Joseph,  joyfully. 

"  Look  I "  resumed  the  Virgin.  "Seest  thou 
that  old  man  who  walks  with  folded  arms,  be- 
fore his  tents  ?  Well,  that  is  the  chief  of  the 
caravan  which  is  encamped  near  the  ruins. 
He  stts  out  to-day  for  the  City  of  the  Sun, 
and  he  has  offered  to  convey  us  thither." 


<«  «i<^»3teMM».*.  r**»«ia6»**» 


130 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


With  a  joyful  heart  Joseph  went  to  meet 
the  Arab,  and  the  latter,  with  his  rude  frank- 
ness, offered  him  a  camel  for  his  wife  and  Son, 
without  any  remuneration. 

"Jew,"  said  Hassaf,  "I  offer  thee  but  one 
camel,  because  I  have  no  more  to  spare.  All 
those  that  thou  seest  lying  around  belong  to 
me,  but  they  are  all  hired  out  to  merchants  of 
Gaza  bound  for  HeliopoUs,  Cairo,  or  Alexan- 
dria. It  grieves  me,  therefore,  that  thou 
must  make  the  journey  on  foot  with  my  ser- 
vants." 

"  It  matters  Uttle  about  me,"  said  Joseph, 
joyfully,  "if  only  my  wife  and  Son  journey 
without  fatigue." 

The  patriarch  forgot  the  grievous  troubles 
that  awaited  him  in  the  desert.  Mary  and 
Jesus  had  a  camel  for  the  jom-ney  — that  was 
his  sole  desire.  He  at  once  loaded  the  camel 
lent  him  by  the  Arab  with  his  few  effects, 
amongst  which  were  his  carpenter's  tools; 
for,  in  Egypt,  he  was  to  have  no  other  means 
of  support  than  that  which  gave  him  and 


Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


131 


3ph  went  to  meet 
th  his  rude  frank- 
r  bis  wife  and  Son, 

offer  thee  but  one 
aore  to  spare.  All 
;  around  belong  to 
)ut  to  merchants  of 
i,  Cairo,  or  Alexan- 
srefore,  that  thou 
I  foot  with  my  ser- 

me,"  said  Joseph, 
)  and  Son  journey 

e  grievous  troubles 
desert.  Mary  and 
jom-ney  —  that  was 
se  loaded  the  camel 
ith  his  few  effects, 
carpenter's  tools; 
ave  no  other  means 
lich  gave  him  and 


his  a  living  at  Nazareth,  the  labor  of  his 
hands. 

A  little  while  and  all  was  ready.  The  traders 
from  Gaza  joined  others  from  Egypt,  and 
Hassaf,  having  had  his  tents  taken  up,  gave 
the  signal  for  departure. 


«!i-*^S«**«^ 


,  vWiSuflhikftlW*^"'' 


XVI. 

THE  DESERT. 

lAVING  left  tlie  suV-mbs  of  Gaza,  the 
caravan  took  the  way  to  Matarah, 
and,  some  hours  after,  the  camels' 
feotwere  treacling  the  barren  fields 
of  Syria.    Then  lay  stretched  before  the  eyes 
of  the  travellers  the  boundless  plains  they  had 
to  cross.    Far  away  to  the  distant  horizon 
nothing  was  seen  but  sky  and  sand ;  a  scorch- 
ing wind,  like  the  breath  of  a  fiery  furnace, 
produced  a  stifling  heat. 

The  Arab,  crossing  his  arms  on  his  breast, 
and  his  feet  on  his  dromedary's  back,  closed 
his  eyes  and  meditated,  as  though  seeking  to 
lose  sight  of  the  immensity  of  space.  That 
child  of  the  desert  regards  those  sohtudes  as 
his  country.  His  body  is  strong  as  his  imagi- 
nation is  fanciful;  he  knows  the  perils  to  which 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


133 


iV.ui'bs  of  Gaza,  the 
.e  way  to  Matarah, 
3  after,  the  camels' 
ig  the  barren  fields 
ed  before  the  eyes 
ess  plains  they  had 
le  distant  horizon 
nd  sand ;  a  scorch- 
of  a  fiery  furnace, 

irms  on  his  breast, 
idary's  back,  closed 
}  though  seeking  to 
ity  of  space.  That 
3  those  sohtudes  as 
strong  as  his  imagi- 
rs  the  perils  to  which 


he  iri  exposed,   and,  nevertheless,  he   bears 
them  with  the  courage  of  a  child  of  nature. 

Bnt  the  tender  Virgin,  the  delicate  flower  of 
Galilee,  what  must  she  not  liave  suffered  dur- 
ing that  first  journey?  What  must  have  been 
her  anxiety  for  her  beloved  Son  whom  she 
bore  in  her  arms  ?  How  long  those  first  hours 
must  have  seemod  to  her  maternal  heart ! 

MeanAvhile,  the  intense  heat  of  the  fiery  sun 
inflamed  the  atmosphere,  and  numerous  flies 
annoyed  the  little  Infant  Jesus,  whilst  He 
slept  in  His  Mother's  arms.  Forgetting  her 
fatigues  and  sufferings,  to  think  only  of  those 
of  her  Divine  Son,  and  unable  to  keep  off  that 
swarm  of  troublesome  flies,  Mary  raised  her 
eyes  to  heaven  and  breathed  a  fervent  prayer. 
At  that  moment,  the  Infant  God  awoke,  and 
gave  His  Mother  one  of  those  divine  looks 
that  made  her  forget  all  her  pains  and  toils. 
He  then  stretched  forth  His  little  hands.  Im- 
mediately the  flies  were  changed  into  little 
birds  with  sparkluig  wings  of  the  richest  hues. 

And  this  bright-winged  flock,  flying  joyously 

12 


t'.vK'^;^^  ,.tBcs#T»w*'4*>s*«*«:i;;**-»«.vi 


134 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


around  the  Holy  Family,  charmed  them  by 
the  splendor  of  their  plumage,  and  the  merry 
music  of  their  warbling  notes. 

Night  came  on,  and  the  intolerable  heat  of 
the  burning  sun  at  length  ceased.  The  moon's 
silvery  disc  shone  bright  over  those  imposing 
solitudes,  and  the  Arabs  came  to  a  halt. 

The  merchants  put  up  their  tents ;  the  dri- 
vers unloaded  the  camels,  and,  having  fastened 
them  in  a  cirolo  to  stakes  driven  far  down  into 
the  sand,  they  silently  commenced  their  mo- 
dest supper,  composed  of  dates  and  dried 
wheaten  cakes. 

The  Holy  Family  spread  upon  the  sand  a 
palm-tree  cloth,  which  was  to  be  their  only 
couch.  Their  only  tent  was  the  starry  dome 
of  heaven  glittering  far  above  their  heads. 
Poor,  deserted,  more  destitute  than  the  lowest 
servants  of  the  caravan,  they  were  offering  to 
God  the  prayer  of  their  hearts,  when  the  old 
Arab,  who  had  been  their  protector  since  their 
leaving  Gaza,  approached  them  with  a  cup  in 
his  hand. 


Joseph. 

charmed  them  by 
ige,  and  the  merry 

3S. 

intolerable  heat  of 
eased.  The  moon's 
(ver  those  imposing 
me  to  a  halt. 
;heir  tents ;  the  dri- 
md,  having  fastened 
Jriven  far  down  into 
namenced  their  mo- 
if  dates   and    dried 

id  upon  the  sand  a 
IS  to  be  their  only 
vas  the  starry  dome 
above  their  heads, 
tute  than  the  lowest 
hey  were  offering  to 
learts,  when  the  old 
protector  since  their 
I  them  with  a  cup  in 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


135 


"  Galilean,"  said  he  to  Mary,  "  the  Arab  in* 
the  desert  is  sober  through  necessity,  but  ho 
loves  children,  respects  mothers,  and  is  hos- 
pitable. Take  this ;  it  is  a  share  of  my  daily 
allowance  of  camel's  milk.  To-morrow  I  may 
not  be  able  to  offer  thee  a  single  drop  of 
water." 

And  without  waiting  for  thanks,  the  Arab 
went  to  rejoin  his  companions.  Mary  accepted 
the  old  man's  delicate  offer,  penetrated  with 
gratitude  for  his  generosity. 

All  that  night  the  Galilean  Virgin  could  not 
close  her  eyes.  The  vicinity  of  hungry  and 
ferocious  beasts  filled  her  heart  with  ceaseless 
terror;  their  savage  cries,  their  constant  howl- 
ing, reached  her  ears,  and  made  her  fear  for 
the  safety  of  her  adorable  Son. 

How  many  bitter  pains  and  troubles,  what 
anguish  of  mind  and  body  must  the  Holy 
Family  have  suffered  during  that  long  and 
perilous  crossing  of  the  desert,  with  the  heat 
of  a  fiery  sun,  the  scorchipg  gusts  of  wind, 
and  the  cruel  deception  of  the  mirage,  show- 


H  «  -"«»r«  «S=^-.  » trf*aVi»»<* 


136 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


ing  them  in  the  distance  a  lake  suiTonnded 
by  fresh  shade,  ever  receding,  and  vanishing 
at  List !  Faith  alone  sustained  our  Hi)ly  Trav- 
ellers under  the  trials  and  privations  of  that 
long  journey. 

At  length,  after  much  suffering  and  fatigue, 
the  Holy  Family  perceived  afar  off  the  plains 
of  Giseh,  amid  which  arose  the  Pyramids 
like  vast  giants. 

Danger  had  disappeared.  Heliopolis,  the 
City  of  the  Sun,  with  its  graceful  obelisks,  its 
tapering  minarets,  and  the  steel  cupolas  of 
its  pagan  temples,  was  in  sight. 

After  a  short  rest,  the  caravan  entered  the 
city.  Wlien  the  Holy  Travellers  passed  under 
the  granite  arches  of  the  principal  gate  of 
Heliopolis,  all  the  idols  of  a  neighboring  tem- 
ple fell  flat  on  the  ground,  saluting,  from  their 
profane  pedestals,  the  true  and  only  God, 
who  came,  a  fugitive,  to  seek  hospitaUty  from 
the  idolatrous  Egyptians. 

Meanwhile,  the  J)ivine  Travellers  avoided 
the  populous   Heliopolis,  where  living  must 


h  - 


38EPH. 

lake  suiToiinded 
g,  and  vanishiug 
d  our  Holy  Tiav- 
jiivationa  of  that 

ring  and  fatigue, 
far  off  the  plains 
36  the  Pyramids 

Heliopolis,  the 
iceful  obelisks,  its 

steel  cupolas  of 
;ht.  .     - 

ravan  entered  the 
Uers  passed  under 

principal  gate  of 
I,  neighboring  tem- 
aluting,  from  their 
e  and  only  God, 
ik  hospitality  from 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


137 


be  too  dear,  and  continued  their  journey  to 
Matarieh,  a  charming  little  village  in  that 
vicinity,  which  possesses  the  only  fountain 
of  fresh  water  that  there  is  in  Egpyt.  The 
Galilean  fugitives  stopped  some  two  hundred 
paces  from  the  village.  A  shady  sycamore 
served  them  as  a  tent  during  that  first  night 
in  Egypt. 

Some  hours  after,  the  Holy  Family  were 
lodged  in  an  humble  cottage,  which  they  owed 
to  the  charity  of  a  colony  of  Jews  who  had 
settled  m  that  country  some  years  before,  and 
there  the  virtuous  Gahlean  and  her  worthy 
Spouse  breathed  in  peace,  far  from  the  ter- 
rible Herod,  the  inhuman  persecutor  of  the 
Infant  Jesus. 


Travellers  avoided 
where  living  must 


^r.',.  w.-mtt-?.  ■»*  --^-- 


XVII. 

THE  BET  URN  TO-  NAZARETH. 
BET  us    transport   ourselves  to  the 
age  of  Augustus,  and,  in  thought, 
passing  over  time  and  space,  pic- 
ture to  ourselves  the  fertile  val- 
ley of  the  Nile. 

The  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  gild- 
ing with  their  faint  light  the  Egyptian  village 
of   Matarieh.     At  the   eastei-n   extremity  of 
the  village,  and  not  far  from  the  small  p  roup 
of  houses  of  which  it  is  composed,  a  little 
straw -roofed  cottage   may  be   seen.      Some 
paces  from  its  lowly  door,  a  sycamore  spreads 
its  leafy  branches,  as  though  it  would  shelter 
that  poor  dove's  nest  beneath  its  protecting 

shade. 

A  young  woman,  with  a  calm,  serene  look, 
a  chaste  brow,  a  mild  and  affable  exterior, 


0C( 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


189 


UZARETH. 

ourselves  to  the 
?,  and,  in  thought, 
ne  and  space,  pic- 
es the  fertile  vai- 
ling sun  were  gild- 
le  Egyptian  village 
stern  extremity  of 
m  the  small  proup 

composed,  a  little 
'J  be  seen.  Some 
a  sycamore  spreads 
igh  it  would  shelter 
leath  its  protecting 

1  calm,  serene  look, 
nd  affable  exterior, 


is  Heated  at  the  foot  of  that  tree.    Her  cos- 
tume consisted  of  a  woolen  tunic,  confined 
at  the  waist  by  a  girdle,  and  a  short  linen 
veil.     She   was   engaged  in  fabricating  that 
Syrian  lace  so  much  sought  by  the  daughters 
of  Israel.    From  time  to  time  she  raises  her 
eyes  from  her  work,  casts  a  glance  towards 
the  village,  pauses  a  moment,  as  if  expecting 
some  one,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  resumes  her 
occupation. 

The  light  of  day  was  already  receding  be- 
fore the  shades  of  night,  and  still  the  young 
woman  continues  her  work.  The  evening 
breeze  begins  to  sigh  through  the  branches 
above  her  head ;  the  small  birds  sing  fare- 
well to  the  departing  sun  ;  the  bloating  flocks 
come  down  from  the  neighboring  mountains 
to  their  fold,  and  the  nigl^ingales  usher  in 
the  night  by  their  melodious  song. 

The  young  woman  looks  once  more  towards 
Matarieh  ;  a  loving  smile  is  on  her  rosy  Ups. 
"Ahl"  she  exclaims  in  a  joyous  tone,  "they 
come,  at  last ! " 


140 


Legends  of  St.  Jobeph. 


And  graceful  us  tho  young  pnlm-tree  ol 
Yemen,  Htately  hh  Quoou  Esther,  she  rises 
up  and  moveff  towards  tho  villaRo.  A  Cluld 
of  Hix  or  seven  years  and  a  vouorablo  old 
man  are  coming  along  the  path  which  leads 
to  the  cottage.  The  old  man  carries  a  heavy 
axe,  tho  Child  a  little  bundle  of  wood.  The 
youDg  woman  goes  to  meet  them,  and  they 
cordially  salute  each  other. 

Thou  die  takes  the  Child  by  tho  hand  and 
takes  Him  towards  the  cottage.  The  old 
man,  who  follows  them,  raises  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  on  his  venerable  countenance 
is  depicted  the  sweet  emotions  of  his  heart. 

The  lovely  Child  is  clad  in  a  simple  tunic 
of  a  dark  color ;  His  hair  falls  gracefully  on 
His  shoulders,  and  His  glauco  is  as  radiant 
as  the  day.  A  small  deal  table  is  set  within 
the  cottage.  The  repast  is  frugal,  but  peace 
and  love  dweU  beneath  that  humble  roof. 
The  old  man  blesses  the  table  with  a  patri- 
archal air,  and  the  meal  is  begun. 

"How    thou  workest,  Joseph!"  says   the 


\WUi. 


)8ErH. 

ng  palm-tree  of 
isthor,  hUo  rises 
nllftRo.  A  Cliild 
a  vonerablo  old 
n\i\\  which  leads 
u  carries  a  heavy 
e  of  wood.  The 
them,  and  they 

by  the  hand  and 
attage.      The  old 
UHfis  his  eyes  to 
able    countenance 
ons  of  his  heart, 
in  a  simple  tunio 
[alls  gracefully  on 
mco  is  as  radiant 
table  is  set  within 
I  frugal,  but  peace 
khat  humble  roof, 
table  with  a  patri- 
)  begun, 
oseph!"  says   the 


IjEoends  op  St.  Joseph. 


141 


young  woium,  pliioing  a  dinh  of  herbs  before 
the  patriarch. 

"  Lot  us  blcHS  God,  who  wills  it  ho,  Miiry," 
rt'plit^H  Joseph  ;  "  what  troubles  me  most  is 
this  tender  Child." 

"Work  never  tires  mo;  I  am  happy  in 
Klmriiig  your  poverty,"  says  the  Child  in  His 
Uun ;  and  His  voice  has  a  sweet  echo  that 
penetrates  the  very  sonl. 

"Son  of  my  heart!"  cries  Mary,  fondly 
kissing  His  forehead,  "  the  bread  of  exile  is 
bitter.  O  Thou,  soul  of  my  soul,  light  of  my 
life,  sacred  deposit  given  me  by  Jehovah, 
Thou,  fair  Child,  who  hast  ou  Thy  brow  the 
majesty  of  Israel's  kings,  on  Thy  mouth  the 
smile  of  Angels,  and  in  Thy  look  the  splendor 
of  the  invisible  God  of  Moses,  Thou  endurest 
the  hardship  of  our  poverty  without  a  mur- 
mur of  complaint  escaping  Thy  lips!" 

"  Mother,"  gravely  replies  the  Child,  "  God, 
my  Father,  so  ordained  it.  Let  us  adore  His 
decrees,  and  await  the  hour  fixed  in  His  eter- 
nal designs." 


142  toEBM  OF  St.  Joseph. 

The  Holy  ^w7h^™g  &"«"<■*  '"^^ 
Jerusalem,  and  sang  the  hym 

.    ,  I     ..I  in  Vr  little  chamber-,  Jesus  v™ 
tired  to  rest  in  lie"  u>  .„j  the  patriarch 

1    HU  bed  ol    mats,  an*  '""  I"" 
pared  His  bed  ^^^j 

gtrotched  Ms  »eary  limbs  on  in 

-"«"'" '"'""ntn  t«o,  then  three;  the 

^"^°"\P"rl"':;^UMn  the  cabin  were 
„igUt  »as  dark  and  all  wt 

;rbtrsectroirandsnpernat„. 

r.rr'c:me:or.r:rr,r 
.  rj»--"'-rrro:ratr 

fair-haired  young  man  of  majestic  mien     las 
obewaswhiteasthatofthevir^sofSuiu 

a  star  glittered  on  his  bro«,  and  a  ray 
dirine  light  shone  in  his  azure  eyes. 

The    heavenly    messenger   moves  vath   . 


..,.»—.,.— ■■»> 


3t.  Joseph. 

tiaving   finislied   their 
dr  tearful  eyes  towards 
le  hy^n  of  thanksgiv- 
prayer.    Then  Joseph 
jir  dwelling;  Mary  re- 
le  chamber;  Jesus  pre- 

,ats,  and  the  patriarch 
,mbs  on  the  straw  that 

a. 

entwo,then  three;  the 

aU  within  the  cabin  were 
i  the  just.    Then  might 
cdrous  and  supernatural 
iite   and  shining  as  the 
,e  down  from  heaven,  and 
branches  of  the  tree  that 
The  sides  of  that  ra- 
,  and  there  came  forth  a 
Ian  of  majestic  mien;  his 
hat  of  the  virgins  of  Sion; 
I  his  brow,  and  a  ray  o! 
n  his  azure  eyes. 
messenger   moves  with   a 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


143 


stately  step  towards  the  cabin;  the  door 
opens  before  him,  and,  approaching  the  pa- 
triarch, he  says : 

"I  am  Gabriel,  the  chosen  envoy  of  the 
Lord.  I  come  to  tell  thee,  Joseph,  to  arise, 
take  the  Child  and  His  Mother,  and  return 
to  the  land  of  Israel;  for  they  are  dead  who 
sought  the  Child's  Ufe." 

Having  ceased  to  speak,  Gabriel  bowed  his 
beauteous  head  on  his  bosom,  and  remained 
some  moments  in  that  humble  posture.  Then 
the  cloud  wrapping  him  around,  he  left  the 
dwellings  of  men  and  disappeared  in  the  air. 

Joseph  arose  and  communicated  to  Mary 
the  orders  of  the  celestial  messenger.  The 
following  day  the  exiles  quitted  the  hospit- 
able village  of  Matarieh. 


XVIII. 


THE  HAWTHORN  BUSH- 
IT  the  entraiuce  of   the  desert,  Jo- 
seph's brow  darkened,  and  Mary's 
eyes  filled  with  tears.     But  Jesus 
encouraged  them  with  a  look. 
Our  travellers  journeyed  a  long  way  Ihrough 
those  immense  wastes  of  yellow  sand,  with- 
out tree,  or  bush,  or  blade  of.  grass^without 
even  a  drop  of   dew.    The  rays  of  the  sun 
were  so  hot  and  glaring  that  they  made  the 
yellow  sands  burn  and  shine  like  gold.    The 
Holy  Virgin   and  St.   Joseph  suffered  from 
hunger  and   from  heat;    but    they  resigned 
themselves  through  love  for  their  Child,  and, 
full  of    confidence,  they  prayed    instead    of 
murmuring. 

■  All  at  once  the  ass  stopped  and  refused  to 
go  on;  they  were  about  midway  in  the  des- 


s,5:»EW:*ae*^^"'"' 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


145 


7  BUSH.. 

i  the  desert,  Jo- 
kened,  and  Mary's 

tears.     But  Jesus 
n  with  a  look, 
iloog  waylhrough 
jrellow  sand,  with- 

of.  grass^-without 
5  rays  of  the  sun 
iiat  they  made  the 
ne  Uke  gold.  The 
eph  suffered  from 
but  they  resigned 
or  their  Child,  and, 
prayed    instead    of 

aped  and  refused  to 
midway  in  the  des- 


ert and  in  the  heat  of  the  day.  St.  Joseph 
looked  anxiously  at  the  Virgin,  who  was  ten- 
derly regarding  her  Son. 

"  My  Child,"  said  Mary,  "  what  wilt  Thou 
that  we  do?"  Jesus  answered  by  a  sweet 
smile  and  stretched  out  His  hand.  Then  the 
travellers  beheld,  only  a  few  paces  from  them, 
a  little  stunted  withered  bush,  which  they 
had  not  before  observed. 

St.  Joseph  assisted  the  Holy  Virgin  to 
alight,  and  Mary  spread  her  cloak  under  the 
bush,  so  that  her  Divine  Son  might  rest.  But 
behold !  when  they  arose,  in  ^ad  of  the  poor 
withered  shrub,  they  saw  it,  ense  haw- 

thorn bush,  covered  with  .c.,y,  fragiant 
flowers ;  in  its  shade  had  sprung  up  a  verdant 
sward,  from  amid  which  flowed  a  crystal 
spring,  and,  whilst  they  were  thanking  God, 
legions  of  Angels,  with  white  robes  and  gold- 
en wings,  came,  bearing  delicious  fruits  to 
reUeve  their  hunger  and  thirst.  And  white. 
Joseph  and  the  Holy  Virgin  marveled  at  this 

prodigy,  the  Child-God  said  to  His  Mother : 

18 


....VS^JV-Sfl-^"^ 


.-..J_ 


146  Leobsm  OS  St.  toraH. 

..My  Mother,  even  a.  this  ^i<-^^f  ^^ 
h»th  blossomed  «.aer  th,  »hite  ve.l,  so  shril 
bLm  for  my  eieroa.  court  dl  those  souls^ho 
.hall  seek  a  shelter  ia  thy  heart.  As  a  pkdge 
".this  promise,  it  is  my  »ai  that  th»  bush, 

L  seeds  o.  whieh  my  aagels   shall   ea^^ 
teoughoat  the  earth,  may  blossom  ever  mo^ 

hereafter  in  the  month  that  *all  >«  "  '*^ 
times  consecrated  to  thee,  and  its  flo«r, 
.dom  the  altars  ..herever  men  regenerated  by 
„y  Wood  shall  place  thine  image.  And  now. 
J  ns  go  whither  my  Heavenly  Father  sends 

w  so  that  His  word  may  be  Mailed. 

Then  the  Blessed  Virgto  took  up  her  now 
perfumed  clo^  whereon  the  Child  Jesus  h^ 
Lken  His  rest ;  and  whilst  *e  travellers  wn 
on  their  way  towards  the  land  of  Israel,  the 
Angels,  dividmg  the  branches  of  the  blessed 
tree,  carried  them  to  the  several  parts  of  the 
world,  singing  the  praises  of  God. 

At  sunset,  three  days  after,  our  traveUers 
cached  the  conSnes  of  Egypt.  The,  had  now 
only  to  cross  Idomea  to  enter  the  land  of 


S.r5«W«BtKStS5E«'*«»!WfSfi. 


r^  ^si9*i  •srst'--  •  t^M^mJimVi.^ 


BEPH. 

withered  shrub 

lite  veil,  so  shall 

those  souls  who 

irt.    As  ft  pledge 

that  this  bush, 
tels  shall  carry 
lossom  ever  more 
ihall  be  in  future 

and  its  flowers 
m  regenerated  by 
mage.  And  now, 
enly  Father  sends 
,  fulfilled." 

took  up  her  now 
le  Child  Jesus  had 
the  travellers  went 
land  of  Israel,  the 
hes  of  the  blessed 
everal  parts  of  the 
)f  God. 

after,  our  travellers 
ypt.  They  had  now 
,  enter  the  land  of 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


147 


Juda.  Joseph  remarked  with  surprise  that 
the  great  wastes  of  sand  seemed  to  disappear 
beneath  their  feet.  It  was  a  miracle  of  Divine 
power. 

Mary  and  Joseph  regarded  with  worshipping 
love  the  Divine  Child  who  was,  in  His  turn, 
their  guide  through  the  desert. 


XIX. 

THE  SECOND  MEETING. 

IE  AN  WHILE,  the  sun  had  just  set 
behind  the  horizon,  and  our  Holy 
Travellers  had  to  seek  a  refuge 
for  the  night.    They  saw  a  cavern 
a  little  way  off.    Jesus  entered  first,  and  a 
mysterious  light  shone  on  its  gloomy  interior. 
There,  without  other  bed  than  their  poor  gar- 
ments, their -heads  resting  on  the  bare  stone, 
the  Holy  Travellers  took  their  rest. 

About  midnight,  two  men  presented  them- 
selves at  the  mouth  of  the  cave :  one  of  them 
came  from  Egypt,  the  other  from  the  land  of 

Juda.  . 

"  Dimas?"  said  the  former,  in  a  tone  of  m- 

quiry. 

"  Gestas ! "  rejoined  the  other. 

"  I  have  been  punctual,  thou  seest." 


x»ssv»ss^^si  t*s^^aBiwaf=*«®«'W*^**'»*'^**'*''** 


Dim 

out 

live 
«) 

fatig 

T] 

grou 

Fane 

repo 

(t  I 

paui 
settl 


liEaENDs  OF  St.  Joseph. 


U9 


^TING. 

lun  had  just  set 
>n,  aud  our  Holy 

0  seek  a  refuge 
iiey  saw  a  cavern 
ived  first,  and  a 

1  gloomy  interior, 
ku  their  poor  gar- 
1  the  bare  stone, 
,r  rest. 

presented  them- 

ave :  one  of  them 

from  the  land  of 

ir,  in  a  tone  of  in- 

ther. 

aou  seest." 


"And  I  no  less  so." 

"Shall  we  go  in?" 

The  other  assented,  and  both  entered  the 
cavern. 

"Wilt  thou  that  we  strike  a  light?"  asked 
Dimas. 

"  Wherefore  ?  We  can  speak  together  with- 
out that;  we  are  birds  of  night,  destined  to 
live  in  darkness." 

"  Thou  savest  well.  Let  us  sit  down ;  I  am 
fatigued." 

The  two  men  seated  themselves  on  the 
ground.  Whilst  they  conversed  thus,  the  Holy 
Family  continued  to  enjoy  the  sweets  of  calm 
repose. 

"  Thy  messenger,"  said  Dimas,  after  a  short 
pause,  "  informed  me  that  it  is  thy  pui'pose  to 
settle  in  Samaria  with  thy  people." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Gestas,  "  the  desert  is  lit- 
tle frequented,  and  my  soldiers,  attracted  by 
the  hope  of  booty,  are  tu-ed  of  waiting  whole 
days  in  vain,  under  the  scorching  sun,  in  the 
deserts  of  Etham  and  Paraham.    They  want 


150  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


me  to  lead  them  into  Samaria ;  as  thou  art  the 
chief  of  these  mountains,  I  would  fain  know 
whether  thou  wilt  give  us  hospitality,  or.  ra- 
ther, if  thou  wilt  allow  thy  castle  to  serve  us 
as  a  refuge,  and  we  will  share  our  booty  with 
thee  as  good  friends." 

"I  have  never  refused  hospitality  to  him 
who    asked   it  at   my  door.    There   is    my 

hand." 

Gestas  shook  the  hand  held  out  to  him,  say- 
ing: "It  is,  then,  agreed?" 

"Even  so.  Thou  mayst  come  when  thou 
wilt;  my  soldiers  shall  have  no  arms  against 

thine." 

"  The  treaty  is  made  ?  " 

"  I  never  break  my  word." 

At  these  words,  a  deep  sigh  was  heard  i  va 
the  depth  of  the  cavern.  Gestas  put  his  hu^d 
to  his  belt  to  seize  his  knife,  and  said  in  a  low 

voice : — 

"  There  is  some  one  here." 

"  I  believe  there  is,"  answered  Dimas.  * 

« "Wait ;  let  us  strike  a  light." 


Ge 

] 

Ge 

pie 

oul 
< 

del 


tui 


■  ^**«»a&s«s^^iM*©*E*4««ai""^ 


8EPH. 

;  a3  thou  art  the 
voulcl  fain  know 
)8pitality,  or,  ra- 
istle  to  serve  us 
5  our  booty  with 

jspitality  to  him 
.    There   is   my 

d  out  to  him,  say- 
come  when  thou 
5  no  arms  against 


gh  was  heard  1  m 
lestas  put  his  hu^d 
,  and  said  in  a  low 


ivered  Dimas.  * 


ght; 


Leoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


151 


Gestas  drew  forth  a  sulphurated  cord  which 
he  carried  rolled  up  in  his  belt,  and,  going  out 
of  the  cavern,  he  sought  two  stones,  which  he 
rubbed  hard  together,  till  the  cord  took  fire, 
shedding  a  yellowish  light  and  a  suffocating 
smell. 

Provided  with  this  torch  he  entered  the 
cave,  and  both  commenced  their  search.  Di- 
mas was  the  first  who  saw  the  Holy  Travel- 
lers asleep,  and  he  started  as  though  he  had 
recognized  them. 

"Ha!  there  is  ah  unexpected  chance!"  said 
Gestas.  moving  towards  them. 

Dimas  seized  him  by  the  arm.  "  Hark  thee, 
Gestas,"  said  he,  "  looking  at  these  poor  peo- 
ple, I  felt  my  heart  beating  as  if  it  would  go 
out  of  my  breast." 

"  Bah ! "  said  Gestas,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"  I  tell  thee  truly  1 " 

"  Well !  what  would'st  thou  ?  " 

"  That  we  respect  the  sleep  of  these  unfor- 
tunates." 


i^g^<«i«fc(i»tii*!«ii»*«a*<^ 


162 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


-i  * 


"I  allow  no  such  favorable  opportunity  to 
escape  me.  The  Eomans  will  do  the  same  by 
me  when  they  catch  me." 

« I  beseech  thee,  by  what  is  dearest  to  thee 
in  the  world,  respect  their  sleep." 

»  What  I  love  most  in  this  world  is  money. 
"Well!  touch  them  not,  and  I  give  thee 
twenty  drachms." 
"  It  is  very  little ! " 

"I  will  further  give  thee  this  copper  girdle, 
and  this  Damascus  knife." 

Gestas  examined  the  objects.    Dimas,  see- 
ing him  hesitate,  added  :— 

"If  thou  wilt  not  accept  mine  oflfer,  I  swear 
I  will  defend  these  people ! " 
These  reasons  decided  Gestas. 
"  I  agree,"  said  he. 

Dimas  gave  him  the  money  and  the  articles 
specified.  Just  then  was  heard  a  voice  from 
within  the  cave,  saying  :— 

"Dimas!  Gestas!  you  shaU  die  with  me: 
one  on  my  right  hand,  the  other  on  my  left/' 
These  words  were,  one  day,  to  be  fulfiUed. 


>8EFH. 


LEiKNDs  OF  St.  Joseph. 


153 


e  opportunity  to 
1  do  the  same  by 

L8  dearest  to  thee 
;ep. 

world  is  money." 
and  I  give  thee 


ihis  copper  girdle, 
ects,    Dimas,  see- 
mine  offer,  I  swear 
II 

estas. 

ley  and  the  articles 
heard  a  voice  from 

shall  die  with  me: 
other  on  my  left." 
lay,  to  be  fulfilled. 


Let  us  transport  ourselves,  in  thought, 
twenty-five  years  later,  to  the  top  of  Golgotha, 
at  the  solemn  moment  when  Jesus  consum- 
mated His  sacrifice  on  the  cross.  Two  rob- 
bers were  fastened  on  either  side  of  Him. 
One,  hardened  in  crime,  joined  his  insults  to 
those  of  the  multitude:  it  was  Gostas,  the 
merciless  robber;  the  other,  to  the  right  of 
Jesus,  testified  his  faith  and  his  repentance, 
and  had  the  happiness  of  hearing  the  words : 
"  To-day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise." 
It  was  Dimas,  who,  in  the  flight  into  Egypt, 
had  saved  the  Infant  God  from  the  dagger  of 
lis  comrades. 

But  let  us  return  to  our  Holy  Travellers, 
whom  we  left  near  the  mountain  of  Thabord. 
Their  eyes  had  already  caught  sight  of  the 
verdant  plains  of  Nazareth.  Who  could  tell 
their  happiness  ?  The  time  of  exile  was  ended, 
their  fatigue  forgotten.  They  entered  the  town 
of  Nazareth,  amid  the  feUcitations  of  all  the 
inhabitants,  who  hastened  to  testify  their  joy 
at  this  unlooked-for  return. 


IH 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Joseph  and  Mary  found  thoir  doar  abode 
again.  Thoy  dwelt  there  in  profound  pence, 
Boeing  JcHUS  grow  from  day  to  day,  in  ago,  in 
wisdom,  and  in  grace,  till  the  time  marked  out 
for  the  preaching  of  the  Holy  Gospel. 


ft 


Thoi 
Tl 
In 

Ami 

Hen 
El 
Tl 

A  m 


■^^ 


;i^,Bwi5:Ks3K3ft«J"  «!ej*<»'-^S'=- 


£;-,-xt^S5ji«^4M-'S"«''<''^^'-'-*^-*»^'-'>'- 


■t^i,-  ■;  -«4.'^  ■■^a*-''** — **  ..iites*4: 


OHEPH. 

their  tloar  abode 
I  prof«)uml  peiico, 
to  clay,  in  ago,  in 
3  time  marked  out 
y  Gospel. 


XX. 

OLD-TIM I<:  WINDOWS. 

I. 

OW  I  lovo  tho  old  MisHals,  with  pictures 
so  (|iiiiint, 
And  tlic  simple  designs  of  tlio  windows 
tif  old, — 

They  quicken  my  heart,  and  I  pause  to  behold 
The  artlesH  portrayal  of  Martyr  and  Saint. 

Though  stiff  the  position,  and  dry  each  detail, 
The  coloring  harsh,  and  too  slender  the  fiorra, 
In  the  eyes  beams  a  tender  light,  mystical,  warm, 

And  faith,  hope,  and  love  in  each  aspect  prevail. 

Here  the  aged  man  is  crowu'd  with  a  halo  of  light, 
'    Erect,  rapt  in  spirit,  and  with  clasped  hands. 
The  Virgin  bows  down,  and  Our  Lord  smiling 
stands, 
A  martyr  kneels  here,  there  an  Archangel  bright. 


156 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


How  I  love  to  behold  them  in  tunics  of  gold 

With  hoods,  as  it  were,  of  the  soft  living  hgh^ 
Through  their  face  is  the  soul  seen,  all  radmnt  and 
bright — 

Once  more  we  look  on  ye,  fair  visions  of  old  1 

Here  the  "  Sucker  of  Jesse,"  near  Booz  and  Ruth. 
Here  Judas,  his  soldiers,  the  Magi  behold- 
Our  Lord,  'neath  His  cross,  mark,  0  heart  proud 
and  cold  ;  _ 

But  the  FUght  into  Egypt  most  charms  me,  m  sooth. 


n. 

Slowly  paces  the  ass  'neath  a  fiery  sun. 

The  spouse,  staff  in  hand,  praying,  journeys  along. 

Leading  the  animal,  patient  and  strong. 
While  the  Virgin  smiles  down  on  her  fair  sleepmg  One. 

Young  Mother,  that  Babe,  closely  clasp'd  in  thine 

arms.  , 

'Tis  for  Him  that  thou  fearest  the  length  of  the 

way — 
The  hunger,  the  thirst,  and  the  sun's  scorchmg  ray- 
Tis  for  Him  that  thou  feclest  a  thousand  alarms  1 


St.  Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


157 


m  in  tunics  of  gold, 
of  the  soft  living  light— 
le  soul  seen,  all  radiant  and 

fair  visions  of  old  I 

Be  "  near  Booz  and  Ruth, 

rs,  the  Magi  behold— 

,  cross,  mark,  0  heart  proud 


^pt  most  charms  me,  in 


sooth. 


11. 


sath  a  fiery  sun, 

hand,  praying,  journeys  along, 

patient  and  strong, 

1  down  on  her  fair  sleeping  One. 

Babe,  closely  clasp'd  in  thine 

thou  fearest  the  length  of  the 

■st,  and  the  sun's  scorching  ray— 
a  feclest  a  thousand  alarms ! 


What  fearest  thou.  Virgin  ?    Though  eastvirard  be- 
low 

A  fierce,  cruel  king  vainly  furaetli,  at  bay  ; 

And,  though  Egypt  be  far  in  the  blue  mist  away, 
The  Lord  is  still  with  thee.  His  power  to  show. 

Everywhere  the  bare  plain  :  to  the  horizon  dry. 
Nought,  nought  but  the,  desert's  dread  sameness  ifl 

seen  ; 
No  tree  intercepts,  in  its  foliage  green. 

The  fierce  rays  that  fall  from  a  tropical  sky. 

The  fair,  spotless  Child,  in  whom  God  takes  delight, 
Heaves    a    sigh    in   His    infantile    slumber,   and 

wakes, — 
But,  hasten  1   those  fields,  those  green  meadows 
and  lakes, 
Illusions  too  fair  of  the  waste-weary  sight  1 

The  ground,  it  is  smoking  ;  sand  flies  in  the  air — 
The  steaming  waste  stretching  before  and  behind  ; 
Like  the  dreadful  simoom  is  the  breath  of  the 
wind — 

For  her  Infant  sore  grieved  is  that  young  Mother 

fair. 

U 


S.:^i,«W«.:i*«K.«ia»»K»:sW8»iaS-««*S=«»'> 


168  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 

She  says  to  her  spouse,  with  an  accent  of  woe  : 
"  Oh,  had  we  but  water  and  shade  for  the  Child  ! 
We  must  sinlc  'neath  our  pains  in  this  desert  so 
wild. 

If  Our  Merciful  Lord  will  not  comfort  bestow." 

O  Virgin,  the  Lord  hears  the  voice  of  thy  prayer  1 
A  tree  is  before  thee,  all  plumy  and  green  ! 
And  hark  1  that  faint  sound  where  its  shadow  is 
seen — 

Tis  the  trickling  of  water  that  sounds  on  the  air  ! 

Lo  1  a  palm  tree,  all  laden  with  fruit— strange  to 

tell! 
And  a  blue,  limpid  spring,  looking  cool,  fresh,  and 

bright ! 
But  the  fruits— who  can  reach  them,  because  oP 
their  height. 
Or  draw  the  cool  water  from  out  of  the  well  ? 

The  sweet  Jesus  opens  His  eyes,  and,  behold  1 
O  travellers  blessed,  ye  find  some  relief ;      '      « 
The  tree  bends  its    branches  — of   wonders  the 
chief — 

And  the  water  uprises,  clear,  sparkling,  and  cold  ! 


In 


.  Joseph. 

n  accent  of  woe  : 

i  shade  for  the  Child  ! 

pains  in  this  desert  so 

;  comfort  bestow." 

voice  of  thy  prayer  1 

umy  and  greeu ! 

ind  where  its  shadow  is 

it  sounds  on  the  air  ! 
with  fruit— strange  to 

looking  cool,  fresh,  and 

reach  them,  because  of* 

I  out  of  the  well  ? 

yes,  and,  behold  1 

id  some  relief ; 

nches  —  of   wonders  the 

•,  sparkling,  and  cold  I 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


169 


Behold,  now  the  wayfarers  sit  in  the  shade, 
The  ass  browzes  near  on  the  fresh,  new-sprung 

grass; 
Fear  is  gone,  and  the  Angels  pass  and  repass, 

In  attendance  on  Jesus  and  the  fair  Mother-maid. 

But  a  drop  of  the  water  the  Babe  Divine  drank, 
And  a  fruit  he  was  eating  —  both  fell  to  the 

ground. 
When  the  fresh  herbage,  upspringing  around, 
Made  that  resting-place  sacred — a  green,   flow'ry 
bank  1  ' 

m. 

In  those  days    lived,  in  hope  of   the  Saviour  to 
come. 

Whose  reign  was  to  bring  back  the  glories  of  old, 
A  man  who  expected,  ere  yet  he  went  home. 

That  promised  Redeemer  his  eyes  might  behold. 

A  leper  he  was,  and  his  plague-stricken  form 
Was  an  object  of  fear  and  disgust  unto  all ; 

He  wander'd  alone  through  the  sunshine  and  storm, 
All  calm  and  resign'd  ta  whate'er  might  befall. 


naii^ieanaiiiiBW  »!>"•«•«'' 


.,camtiimjimtcMfi'<-aifiitisxa!>i'V 


160 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


The  shade  was  his  shelter.  Yet,  shunn'd  and  ab- 
horr'd, 

For  all  creatures  he  still  had  a  kiud,  loving  heart ; 
He  was  merciful,  e'en  as  the  Merciful  Lord, 

To  the  sufFring  he  fain  would  some  comfort  impart. 

"  The  One  who  hath  come  may  look  kindly  on  me," 
Was  oft-times  his  thought ;  for  the  shepherds  had 
told 
How  the  Angels  came  down,  Christ's  glad  heralds 

to  be. 
And  the  Wonderful  Infant  their  eyes  did  behold. 

He  himself  had  once  seen  the  good  Kings    from 
afar, 
Who  came  with    rich    presents    to   lay  at  His 
feet ; 
.  To  whose  presence  they  journey'd,  ler.  on  by  a  star, 
That  Babe  of  the  Grotto,  so  fai-  and  so  sweet. 

When  wakeful  one  night,  in  the  depth  of  his  woe, 
He  saw  — as   God  will'd  it,  to  cheer  his  lone 

heartr^— 
When  warn'd  by  the  Angel  to  Egypt  to  go,  ..'-* 

The  three  Holy  Travellers  sadly  depart.     : 


,  Joseph. 

Yet,  shunn'd  and  ab- 

J  a  kiud,  loving  heart ; 

lerciful  Lord, 

id  some  comfort  impart. 

y  look  kindly  on  me," 
for  the  shepherds  had 

I,  Christ's  glad  heralds 

their  eyes  did  behold, 
the  good  Kings    from 

resents    to   lay  at  His 

ley'd,  ler.  on  by  a  star, 
so  fai'  and  so  sweet. 

the  depth  of  his  woe, 
i  it,  to  cheer  his  lono 

to  Egypt  to  go,       * 
1  sadly  depart. 


Legends  ot  St.  Joseph. 


161 


"Ah I"  thought  he,  "conld  I  see  but  that  aspect  so 
mildl 
Might  I  touch  but  His  garment,  my  woes  would 
soon  cease  1 
While  I  breathe  the  same  air  with  that  Mother  and 
Child,  ■ 

I  can  live  upon  hope,  I  can  journey  in  peace  1 " 

If  I  follow  wherever  the  Infant  may  go,  : 

Beseeching  His  mercy,  perchance  He  may  hear  ; 

He  may  listen  with  pity,  j^nd  mercy  bestow. 
Who  was  laid   upon   straw  in  a  birth-place  so 
drear  I"  ,  .  .    • 

Far  away,  far  away  through  the  mists  of  the  dawn. 
Was  a  motionless  speck  on  the  horizon  dim, 

From  it  were  the  leper's  eyes  never  withdrawn, — 
'Twas  the  Virgin  and  Joseph,  and  the  ass  that  bore 

Him  I    ....  _   .  .;.    .:,;  ,,-1 

On  the  promise  divine  and  the  long-promised  day 
Of  the  coming  Messiah,  he  ponder'd  and  pray'd,— 

A  sweet,  soothing  hope,  chasing  sadness  away,  *. 

Still  onward  he  went,  of  no  danger  afraid.    '  f.K 


'  1  \ 


•'id 


ii 


162 


Lkqends  of  St.  Joseph. 


While  he  saw  in  the  distance  the  Travellers  blest, 
The  sight  cheer'd  him  on  with  fresh  ardor  to  go ; 

But  they  vanish'd  at  last,  and  his  eyes  could  but  rest 
On  the  dreary  horizon,  so  level  and  low. 

Already  the  desert  was  circling  him  round, 
Its  gloomy  immensity  fill'd  him  with  dread  ;  | 

He  listened  in  vain  for  one  life-speaking  sound, 
AH  was  silent  and  lone  as  the  halls  of  the  dead. 

Then  the  torment  of  thirst  he  began  to  endure, 

His  limbs  they  were  failing,  his  throat  parch'd  and 

dry : 
"  0  Saviour  ! "  he  cried,  "  of  Thy  mercy  I'm  sure,— 
I  love  Thee,  I  hope  in  Thee,— wretched  am  1 1 " 

What  sees  he?  though  burning  with  fever's  wild  pain, 
He  runs— lo  !  a  spring  and  a  stately  palm-tree ! 

But  alas  1  the  sweet  succor  to  him  comes  in  vain,— 
The  high  fruit  and  low  water  he  only  can  see  ! 

He  falls  by  the  well,  and  in  sUence  awaits 
The  death  he  feels  coming— O  myst'ry  sublime  t— 

As  it  were  from  the  earth  a  ftesh  air  animates 
His  Umbs  with  the  vigor  and  strength  of  his  prime  I 


Joseph. 

e  Travellers  blest, 
1  fresh  ardor  to  go ; 
lis  eyes  could  but  rest 
el  and  low,         , 

him  round, 
im  with  dread ; 
i?peaking  sound, 
e  halls  of  the  dead. 

)egan  to  endure, 

his  throat  parch'd  and 

'hy  mercy  I'm  sure, — 
^ — wretched  am  1 1 " 

g  with  fever's  wild  pain, 
a  stately  palm-treo ! 
I  him  comes  in  vain, — 
er  he  only  can  see  ! 

ilence  awaits 

-O  myst'ry  sublime  t — 

tesh  air  animates 

id  strength  of  his  prime  I 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


163 


All  fainting  he  came  to  that  thrice-hallow'd  place, 
Where  Thou,  Divine  Infant,  had'st  tarried  a  while  I 

And  purified,  now,  as  by  baptismal  grace. 
The  leper  goes  forth  with  glad  heart  and  bright 


smile. 


IT. 


Months  had  pass'd.    In  a  Judean  village  away, 
A  matron  stood  list'ning  at  close  of  the  day, 
To  the  tale  that  a  dust-cover'd  traveller  told — 
'Twus  the  leper  and  holy  Elizabeth  old  ! 

He  spoke  of  the  long-promised  Christ,  who  was  born 
Of  Mary,  at  Bethlehem,  poor  and  forlorn, — 
These  things  did  the  Saint  in  her  deep  heart  record, 
And  she  cried,  in  an  ecstasy,  "  Praise  to  the  Lord ! " 

r. 
O  windows  of  the  olden  days, 

What  hallow'd  legends  ye  recall, 
While  dreamily  I  stand  and  gaze 

Where  your  bright-tinted  shadows  fall. 

In  the  deep  arch's  shade  I  stand. 
Leaning  against  a  column  high, 

Musing  on  your  old  pictures  grand, — 
While  hours  roll  all  unheeded  by  ! 


A  1 


-  ) 


-,.««-i*'-^ 


164 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


I  ponder'd  on  those  Saints  of  old, 
When  lo  !  the  sun  gave  forth  his  rays, 

And  pour'd  a  Bood  of  radiant  gold 
From  oat  those  forms  of  other  days ! 

Ah  1  speak  ye  ever  to  my  soul  1 
Enkindle  in  my  heart  the  flame 

That  gvudes  us  to  our  heavenly  goal— 
Ye  works  which  lively  faith  proclaim  I 

When  our  belief  we  scarce  dare  own. 
When  faith  has  lost  its  ancient  glow, 

When  man's  frail  works  with  pride  are  shown, 
And  earthly  hopes  rule  here  below  1 

Tells  us,  0  eloquent  remains 

Of  pious  ages  long  gone  by,        ,.  ,,  ,. . 
What  prodigies  earth  yet  retains 

Of  faith-taught  art  that  cannot  die  !     , 

And  now,  when  in  discussions  vain, 
Our  modern  Babel  strives,         :     :i     ; 

Oh !  speak  of  heavenly  things  agam, 
Of  old-time  hallow'd  lives  1  :i 


.'■A 


"'A 


On 


An 


Ai 


Joseph. 

of  old,  '  •  ' 

forth  his  rays, 
ant  gold 
r  other  days  1 

soul  1 

le  flame  - 

?euly  goal — 
raith  proclaim  I 

B  dare  own, 

ancient  glow, 

irith  pride  are  shown, 

5  here  below  I 

I 
lins 

leby,       ,  ,     •> 

b  retains 

it  cannot  die  t    ,  j- 

ssions  vain, 
'ives,     •  ■■" '«;'    I 
things  agam,    >; 
lives!  ,  -\k 


XXI. 

THE  SNAKE. 

JIHAT  long  caravan  through  the  desert 
plods  on, 
All  Heaven    looking    down  with  a 
wond'ring  delight  ? 
One  would  say  'twas  a  beam  o'er  the  bleak  sands  that 
shone, — 
And  the  hosts  of  the  Angels  are  round  it  in  might ! 

An  old  man,  a  young  woman,  a  delicate  child, 
So  fair  that  it  charms  one  to  look  on  His  face  ; 

And  Eastern  women,  whose  eyes,  dark  and  wild. 
Are  veil'd  by  their  tears  with  a  sorrowful  grace  ! 

And  children,  with  glad,  sun-brown'd  faces,  are  there, 
Unshadow'd  by  grief,  or  by  life's  chilling  fears  ; 

They  chase  the  bright  butterflies,  pluck  flow'rets  rare. 
And  sport  as  though  earth  had  nor  sorrows,  nor 
tears. 


1:1 


*[ 


-f-. 


■^} 


166 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Then  round  the  fair  Infant  they  come  iA  their  glee, 
To  offer  Him  flowers,  the  fairest  of  all, 

Their  frolicRorae  play,  all  so  blithesome  and  free, 
RonsinR  flocks  of  bright  birdlings,  with  loud  laugh 
and  call. 


n. 

And  the  women  all  said,  in  their  sadness  of  heart : 
"  Ah  !  must  ye,  then,  leave  ub,  in  far  climes  to 
roam  ? 

Though  the  great  God  of  Israel  bids  ye  depart, 
O  Mary  and  Joseph,  again  will  ye  come  ? 


"That  thrice-holy  God  whom  to  us  ye  made  known, 
Doth  punish  us  now,  on  this  sorrowful  day  ; 

Ah  1  it  may  be  that  too  little  kindness  we've  shown, 
That  we  did  not  do  more  to  make  happy  your 
stay ! " 

But  she  who  by  Mary  s  sweet  name  they  address'd, 
Look'd  upward  and  pointed  to  Heaven's  blue  dome, 

And  said,  in  a  voice  like  soft  winds  from  the  west,— 
"  We  shall  meet  once  again  in  our  only  true  home!" 


Ii 


Joseph. 

come  iA  their  glee, 
•est  of  oil, 
;he8omc  and  free, 
llings,  with  loud  laagh 


Leqends  of  St.  Joseph. 


167 


ir  sadness  of  heart : 
e  UB,  in  far  climes  to 

il  bids  ye  depart, 
will  ye  come  ? 

to  us  ye  made  known, 
I  sorrowful  day  ; 
kindness  we've  shown, 
!  to  make  happy  your 


name  they  address'd, 
i  to  Heaven's  blue  dome, 
winds  from  the  west, — 
I  in  our  only  true  home!" 


But  hark  I  what  loud  cries 

Are  heard  close  at  hand, 
That,  in  wildest  surprise, 

Tlic  poor  mothers  all  stand  ? 
With  the  echoes'  lament 

And  the  wind's  hollow  moan, 
The  sad  cry,  now  blent, 
O'er  the  desert  is  sent 

In  a  faint  dying  groan  ! 

To  their  woll-beloved  children  the  mothers  all  run, 
A  heart-rending  sight  meets  their  fear-stricken  eyes: 

All  the  late-smiling  little  ones,  terrified,  shmi 
A  playmate,  who,  pale  and  inanimate  lies  I 

Round  his  head  a  black  snake  is  seen  coil'd,  like  a  ring ;^ 
Its  poison  has  blighted  the  child's  smiling  bloom  1 

Like  the  bird  by  the  fatal  dart  struck,  on  the  wing, 
nic  sweet  victim  Ues  as  though  cold  in  the  tomb  I 

U  his  hands  he  still  holds  the  bright  garlands  he 
twined, 

The  flo\f ers  yet  fresh  in  their  beauty  and  grace  ; 
Like  the  children  the  Indians  with  floral  wreaths  bhid 

Ere  they're  laid  in  the  serial  tomb  of  their  race. 


■i[l 


Ml 


168 


Leqbndb  op  St.  Joseph. 


Hcart-rciiding  tho  Hccno  i«.  .  .  •  »ut  Mnry  Ih  there  1 
She  whispers  a  word  to  the  ChiUl  iit  her  knee  ; 

Ami  the  Hwect  Jesus,  sinihnK,  advances  to  where 
Tlie  dead  infant  lies-si«ht  of  sorrow  to  see  ! 

The  snake  feels  His  presence,  and  quickly  unwinds 
His  murderous  folds  from  the  fair  drooping  head  ; 

The  Master  of  Nature  uU  plainly  he  finds 

In  the  Child  who  approaches  to  raise  np  tho  dead. 

"  0  reptile  1 "  said  Jesus,  "  who  causcst  such  woe, 
Say,  who  hath  cmpower'd  thee  this  infant  to  kill? 

For  this  deed  thou  shalt  die,  that  thou  thereby  may'st 
know 
The  justice  and  power  of  the  Almighty  Will  I " 

O  wonder !— tho  vile  reptile  rolls  on  tho  ground, 
And  dies,  on  the  instant,  in  agonized  pain,— 

And  the  child  I— on  his  cheek  are  the  rose-tints  soon 
found ! 
He  opens  his  eyes,  and  is  smiling  agaip  I 

And  kneeling  before  the  Child  Jesus,  he  speaks, 
The  spirit  of  prophecy  guiding  his  voice  :— 


Joseph. 

.  But  Mary  is  there  ! 
MM  ivt  litT  knco  ; 
iilvancoH  to  where 
f  sorrow  to  see  ! 

nd  quickly  unwinds 
I!  fair  drooping  lieiul  ; 
ily  he  finds 
a  to  raise  np  the  dead. 

0  causcat  such  woe, 
liee  this  infant  to  kill  ? 
iiat  thou  thereby  may'st 

e  Almighty  Will ! " 

oils  on  the  ground, 

1  agonized  poin, — 

k  are  the  rose-tints  soon 

miling  agaiu  I 

d  Jesus,  he  speaks, 
ling  his  voice  : — 


Legends  of  St.  Johepii. 


169 


"  Prals'd  and  honor'd  be  Thou  whom  the  weary  sonl 
seeks, — 
Thou  judgest  the  guilty,  makest  sad  ones  rejoice  ! 

'The  snake's  deadly  sting  Thou  hust  heal'd  on  this 
day, 
But  one  day  Thou  shalt  save  from  a  more  cruel 

doom 
The  condemn'd  race  of  man,  in  a  wonderful  way. 
And  raise  all  the  dead  from  the  sleep  of  the 
tombP 


X.i 

*:  ■■ 


15 


ii 


1 
I 


XXII. 

THE  PANTHER. 

• 

[HE  scene  of  the  favor  here  to  be 
related,   and  the  place  where  it 
was    asked,   are    very  far    apart. 
The    prayer  was    offered    up    in 
France,  and— in  Cochin  China  the  favor  was 
obtained.     But  what  are  thousands  of  leaguec 
to  the  Saints?     Om'  great  St.  Joseph  acted, 
in  this  case,  very  promptly— with  greater  de- 
spatch thaii  even  the  telegraph  operator.    It 
is  that  there  is  no  telegraphy  Uke  prayer, 
which  ascends  in  a  moment  from  earth  to 
heaven,   and    bringf    down    celestial    graces. 
Here  is  the  story:-- 

It  was  during  the  last  expedition  to  Cochin 
China ;  a  body  ot  French  troops  lay  encamped 
on  the  outskirts  of  a  forest,  and  for  some  days 
men,  having  rashly  ventured  too  far,  had  dis- 


I- 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


171 


PANTHER. 

of  the  favor  here  to  be 
and  the  place  where  it 
Lcd,  are  very  far  apart, 
ayer  was  offered  up  in 
>chin  China  the  favor  was 
,t  are  thousands  of  leaguec 
u'  great  St.  Joseph  acted, 
•romptl}' — with  greater  de- 
he  telegraph  operator.  It 
lO  telegraphy  like  prayer, 
a  moment  from  earth  to 
rf    down    celestial    graces. 

e  last  expedition  to  Cochin 
French  troops  lay  encamped 
a  forest,  and  for  some  days 
Y  ventured  too  far,  had  dis- 


appeared.   The  footprints  of  a  wild  beast  had 
been  seen  iu  the  vicinity  of  the  camp,  and  it 
was  suspected  that  the  unfortunate  men  had 
been  devomed.     A  courageous  young  soldier 
resolved  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  such 
accidents,  and  went  to  ask  leave  of  his  com- 
manding officer  to  go  into  the  forest  and  beat 
up  the  enemy's  quarters.    The  officer  tried  to 
convince  him  of  the  danger  attending  such  an 
enterprise;  but  aU  in  vain— the  young  man 
still  persisted  in  his  design.     Permission  was 
at  last  given  him,  on  condition  that  he  brought 
some  twenty  men  with  him.    But  so  great  was 
the  danger  that  it  was  impossible  to  find  the 
twenty  men  required.     Our  brave*  soldier,  no 
wise  disheartened,  returns  to  the  charge,  and 
prevails  on  his  commander  to  let  him  go  with 
six  men  only. 

It  was  not  easy  even  to  find  six  men  for  an 
adventure  so  perilous.  Our  young  man  uses 
some  address :  he  goes  privately  and  speaks 
to  those  whom  he  knows  to  be  the  bravest, 
animates  their  oourf^e,  makes  them  ashamed 


r^ 


172  Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 

r 

to  refuse,  and  so  obtains  the  consent  of  each 
individually ;    the  requisite  number  is  com- 
pleted,  and  the  little  band  sets  out  on  its 
march.     Guided  by  the  traces  of  the  animal, 
they  at  length  reach  a  part  of  the  forest  which 
they  suppose  to  be  near  his  lair :  .hey  tie  be- 
tween   two   trees   a  sheep,  which  they  had 
brought  for  the  purpose,  and  retire  some  dis- 
tance.   There  our  huntsmen  post  themselves 
in  ambush,  as  best  they  may;  but  some  of 
them  being  still  a  little  fearful,  they  allow 
their  leader  to  take  the  most  advantageous 
position,  and  place  himself  some  paces  in  ad- 

vance. 

-     They  wait   thus,  their  eyes  fixed  on  the 
mark,  trying  to  place  their  muskets  in  the 
proper  direction  ;  for  the  night  is  falling,  and 
they  will  probably  have  to  fire  through  the 
darkness.    Night  closes  in,  and  yet  they  hear 
no  noise.    All  at  once  comes  a  sound:  it  would 
seem  to  be  that  of  an  animal  bounding:  the 
noise  increases,  approaches  the  spot  where  the 
,  bait  had  been  placed ;  nothing  more  was  heard 


'^1 


'5 
4 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


173 


Joseph. 

e  consent  of  eacb 
number  is  corn- 
el sets  out  on  its 
ces  of  the  animal, 
of  the  forest  which 
is  lair :  .hey  tie  be- 
,,  which  they  had 
tid  retire  some  dis- 
en  post  themselves 
may;  but  some  of 
fearful,  they  allow 
most  advantageous 
If  some  paces  in  ad- 
eyes  fixed  on  the 
leir  muskets  in  the 
night  is  falling,  and 
to  fire  through  the 
n,  and  yet  they  hear 
les  a  sound :  it  would 
nimal  bounding :  the 
es  the  spot  where  the 
thing  more  was  heard 


except  a  faint  bleating,  indicating  that  the 
fierce  beast  must    have  reached  its  victim. 
The  young  man  instantly  discharges  his  mus- 
ket, with  steady  aim :  the  others  fire  after  him, 
but  with  less  caution,   and  less  confidence. 
The  shots  are  followed  by  a  profound  stillness. 
Our  huntsmen  remain  some  time  motionless, 
listening  attentively,  but  they  hear  no  further 
noise.    They  then  advance  cautiously,  through 
the  gloom,  in  the  direction  of  the  bait,  and 
find  the  sheep  stretched  Ufeless  on  the  giound, 
torn  by  the  claws  and  teeth  of  the  ferocious 
animal ;  and  as  the  night  is  dark,  they  cannot 
possibly  continue  their  search.     They  return, 
therefore,  to  the  camp,  knowing  only  that  the 
animal  had  fled,  abandoning  his  prey,  but 
ignorant  whether  he  was  wounded  or  merely 
frightened  by  the  shots.    Next  morning,  when 
it  was  light,  they  resumed  their  search,  and  at 
last  discovered,  in  a  thick  brake,  the  body  of 
an  enormous  panther.     The  beast,  mortally 
wounded,  had  dragged  himself  to  this  brake, 
and  there  expired.  v 


174:  Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


I' 


P 

■3 


I 


At  this  sight,  the  astonishment  of  the  hunt- 
ers  was  not  less  thon  their  joy.    The  panther 
^as  wounded  in  the  shoulder;  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  unly  spot  where  the  wound  could  be 
mortal.    Who  had  fired  that  marvellous  shot  ? 
Of  that  there  could  be  no  doubt!    It  was, 
evidently,  the  leader  of  the  band,  who,  posted 
in  advance  of  the  others,  had  alone  fired  with 
a  sure  hand  and  a  steady  aim.    But  how  did 
it  happen  that,  dark  as  the  night  was,  he  had 
just  struck  the  vulnerable  point?    This  was  a 
mystery,  and  his  comrades  kept  talking  of  a 
shot  so  remarkable.    The  you  .g  man  himself 
thought  nothing  more  about  it.    When,  on 
their  return  to  the  camp,  they  told  the  story, 
their  comrades  were  amazed;  but  finally  aU 
was  attributed  to  chance.     A  very  convenient 
explanation,  to  which  there  is  only  one  objec- 
tion, viz.,  that  there  is  no  sense  in  it,  and  that 
it  explains  nothing  whatever !    We  are  quite 
sure  that  many  a  soldier,  remembering  the 
lessons  of  a  Christian  mother,  referred  the 
honor  of  this  marvellous  shot  where  it  was 


Joseph. 

ament  of  the  hunt- 
joy.    The  panther 
ier ;  that  is  to  say, 
te  wound  could  be 
it  marvellous  shot? 
lo  doubt  1     It  was, 
)  band,  who,  posted 
lad  alone  fired  with 
aim.    But  how  did 
e  night  was,  he  had 
point?    This  was  a 
3S  kept  talking  of  a 
you  ig  man  himself 
bout  it.    When,  on 
they  told  the  story, 
azed ;  but  finally  all 
A  very  convenient 
re  is  only  one  objec- 
)  sense  in  it,  and  that 
ever!    We  are  quite 
er,  remembering  the 
mother,  referred  the 
IS  shot  where  it  was 


Leoends  op  St.  Joseph. 


176 


due,  and  gave  thanks  to  Providence :  of  that 
number  must  have  been  our  young  hero.  In 
after  days  he  well  knew  who  to  thank  :  but  let 
us  not  anticipate  the  sequel  of  our  narrative. 

The  expedition  over,  the  young  soldier  re- 
turned to  France ;  he  had  a  mother  and  sis- 
ter at  home,  and  hastened  to  pay  them  a 
visit.  After  the  first  heart-warm  greetings, 
the  first  thing  he  did  was  to  relate  his  adven- 
ture ;  it  was  listened  to  with  all  the  interest 
that  a  mother  and  sister  would  naturally  take 
in  such  a  recital.  When  he  spoke  of  his 
wonderful  shot  and  the  general  surprise  it 
.had  excited,  an  idea  appeared  suddenly  to 
strike  his  mother,  and  she  quickly  asked 
when  the  occurrence  took  place :  the  young 
man  mentioned  the  exact  time. 

"  That's  it,"  cried  the  mother ;  "  that's  just 
it !  It  was  our  good  Ht.  Joseph  did  that,  and 
no  other  :  let  us  thank  him  together." 

And  as  the  astonished  face  of  the  young 
man  seemed  to  ask  for  an  explanation,  his 
mother  hastened  to  give  it. 


1 1 


9 

-a 

r 


^6 


Leoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


"  It  was  a  long  time,  my  dear  son,  since  I 
had  heard  anything  of  you,"  said  she,  "  and 
I  was  very  uneasy ;  so  I  went,  one  day,  with 
vour  sister,  to  the  altar  of  our  good  St.  Jo- 
seph,  and  we  got  a  taper  burned  before  his 
venerated  statue,  begging  of   him  to  watch 
over  you  and  bring  you  home  to  us  safe  and 
sound.     Judge  now  whether  our  prayer  was 
heard  and  was  of  use  to  you  :  it  was  the  very 
night  after  we  had  done  this  (it  might  have 
been   at  the   very    moment,   on   account   of 
the  difference  in  time  between  Cochin  China 
and  France)  that  your  courage  and  devotion 
brought  you  into   such  great    danger,  from 
which   you  had   such  a  wonderful    escape! 
There  is  no  doubt  about  it:  it  was  St.  Jo- 
seph himself,  to  whom  we  had  been  praying, 
and,  perhaps,    were  praying  then,  that    di- 
rected the  shot;   it  was  by  his  all-powerful 
protection  that  your  ball  went  straight  to  its 
mark,  through  the  darkness,  and  killed  that 
frightful  panther!"  :     ■     '  i-'««M^m«« 

The  fact  was  too  evident  to  faith-illumined 


eye 
it; 

hai 
mc 
die 
gri 
ev( 
pr 


Joseph. 


Legends  op  St..  Joseph. 


177 


y  dear  son,  since  I 
u,"  said  she,  "and 
«rent,  one  day,  with 
)f  our  good  St.  Jo- 
burned  before  his 
of   him  to  watch 
Lome  to  us  safe  and 
lier  our  prayer  was 
ou  :  it  was  the  very 
this  (it  might  have 
mt,   on   account   of 
bween  Cochin  China 
>urage  and  devotion 
great    danger,  from 
wonderful    escape ! 
t  it:  it  was  St.  Jo- 
3  had  been  praying, 
ying  then,  that    di- 
by  his  all-powerful 
I  went  straight  to  its 
less,  and  killed  that 

ent  to  faith-illumined 


eyes  for  the  young  man  to  think  of  disputing 
it ;  but  he  had  no  wish  to  do  so,  and  he 
hastened  to  join  his  thanks  to  those  of  his 
mother  and  sister.  Many  and  many  a  time 
did  that  happy  family  repeat,  with  love  and 
gratitude,  the  name  of  St.  Joseph,  who  was 
ever  after  considered  its  powerful  and  kind 
protector.  ,,; 


iQjCPjj  0  r^  j—y-.*j>.iM-ifw^^M 


"  XXIII. 

THE  UBSULINES  OF  QUEBEC 

(A   PAOB   raOM  TIIEIB  HIBTOBY.)  , 

VOW  made  to  St.  Joseph  having 
obtained  for  our  Monastery  its 
dear  and  holy  foundress,  it  was 
very  natural  that  from  the  estab- 
lishment of  that  house  St.  Joseph  should  be 
regarded  as  its  first  and  principal  guardian. 

Thenceforward,  in  every  class-room,  over 
all  the  principal  dooi-s,  was  placed  an  image 
of  that  good  Father  who,  from  the  highest 
heavens,  protects  his  children ;  the  cross  of 
the  old  steeple*  bore  on  high  the  praise  of 
his  venerated  name,  whilst  his  tall,  majestic 

*  It  was  in  1830  that.,  to  make  room  for  the  erection  of 
St.  Ureuia'8  clasB-rooms,  it  was  found  necessiny  to  take 
down  this  old  steeple,  which  had  given,  for  more  than  one 
hundred  and  ninety  years  so  monastic  an  air  to  St.  Augus- 
tine's wing. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


179 


OF  QUEBEC. 

I  HIBTOBY.)  , 

St.  Joseph  having 
our  Monastery  its 
y  foundress,  it  was 
hat  from  the  estab- 
it.  Joseph  should  be 
rincipal  guardian, 
ry   class-room,   over 
ras  placed  an  image 
lo,  from  the  highest 
ildren;   the  cross  of 
I  high  the  praise  of 
list  his  tall,  majestic 

ce  room  for  the  erection  of 
B  found  nccessaiy  to  take 
id  given,  for  more  than  one 
onaatic  an  air  to  St.  Augoa- 


figure,  above  the  portal,  kept  watch  over  the 
lioly  place.     But  go  back  in  thought,   dear 
readers,  to  the  interior  of  the  cloister,  on  the 
day  (the  19th  of  March)'on  which  tL^i  church 
(ind  the  altar  were  adorned  with  their  richest 
ornaments    in    honor  of    their  holy  patron. 
Almost  the   whole  day  is   spent  before  his 
iiltiirs ;  nuns  and  pupils  are  tendering  to  St. 
Joseph  the  homage  of  their  gratitude  for  the 
past,  of  their  love  for  the  present,  of  their 
hopes  and  wishes  for  the  future.     Is  it  not 
true  that  his  face   then   appears  still  more 
radiant?  for/ie  loves  to  be  charged  with  com- 
missions   and    requests    for    the    sweet    and 
Divine  Child  whom  he  holds  in  his  arms.     .'  » 
When  that  day  of  grace  is  drawing  to  a 
close,  the  religious  family  assembles  anew  to 
salute  its  glorious  protector.     They  repair  to 
the  places  over  which  St.  Joseph  has  watched 
all  the  year  long.     Instead  of  the  bonfires  of 
former  times,  the  pictures  and  statues  of  the 
beloved  patron   are   surrounded  with    lights 
and  flowers.    Here,  it  is  St.  Joseph  of  money. 


*art#WV»««M«9SW5*vrt»*. 


180 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


who  guards  the  stores  and  keeps  away  rob- 
bers; at  the  I.  |)  of  the  great  staircase  lead- 
ing to  the  granary  is  St.  Joseph  of  wheat, 
charged  with  providing  his  children  with  their 
daily  bread ;  in  the  kitchen,  it  is  St.  Joseph 
of  tvork,  blessing,  for  two  hundred  years,  the 
humble  labors  of  the  servants  of  the  Lord, 
and  thence  extending  his  care  over  the  de- 
tails of  the  out-door  economy.    But  let  us 
pause  before  the  infirmary  to  salute  with  a 
8tiU  sweeter  song  him  who   guards  its  en- 
trance ;  St.  Joseph  reserves  his  most  gracious 
smile  for  us  'there,  pledging  hijpself  to  con- 
sole us  in  sickness  and  to  make  our  death 

joyful. 

Here  we  are  now  in  the  holy  place.  Let 
US  gather  round  the  Uttle  altar  where  he 
guards  the  reUcs  of  our  mothers  with  the 
same  fideUty  as  he  guarded  their  work.  This 
greeting  is  the  last,  as  it  is  the  sweetest  to 
the  heart.  What  a  charm  there  is  in  those 
hymns  whose  fervor  and  devotion  are  their 
oliief  harmony,  and  which  the  Angels,  doubt- 


lic.fitjftmiiffiwMfAiMe-'tfwa 


Joseph. 

[  keeps  away  rob- 
eat  staircase  lead- 
Joseph  of  wheal, 
children  with  their 
m,  it  is  St.  Joseph 
hundred  years,  the 
vants  of  the  Lord, 
care  over  the  de- 
nomy.  But  let  us 
:y  to  salute  with  a 
irho  guards  its  en- 
)s  his  most  gracious 
ing  hijjQself  to  con- 
to  make  our  death 

he  holy  place.  Let 
ttle  altar  where  he 
T  mothers  with  the 
ed  their  work.  This 
it  is  the  sweetest  to 
rm  there  is  in  those 
d  devotion  are  their 
h  the  Angels,  doubt- 


Leoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


181 


less,  haste  to  gather  up  to  bear  them  to  him 
who  shares  their  functions  as  guardian  and 

gu'de. 

The  great  festival  being  over,  other  minor 
ones  come  in  their  turn  to  keep  up  fiUal  piety 
towards  the  holy  spouse  of  Mary  Immacu- 
late, homage  is  still  paid  him  in  prose  and  in 
verse,*  and,  on  all  occasions,  each  one  knows 
who  to  apply  to,  in  order  to  have  their  peti- 
tions laid  kt  the  feet  of  the  Eternal. 

But  we  must  not  leave  this  subject  without 
speaking  of  the  "Treasury  of  St.  Joseph." 
Our  readers  may  say:  "And  what  treasury 
is  that?  Is  it  a  trifling  bauble  in  the  number 
of  visible  things?"  Yes,  truly,  that  tremury 
of  St.  Joseph's  is  quite  visible,  especially  to 
those  who  have  the  consolation  of  drawing 
from  it.    Let  us  explain. 

About  the  time  of  the  profession  of  the 
first  novices,  the  Demoiselles  Barr6,  de  Bou- 
logne, de  Lauzon,  and  Bourdon,  Mother  Incar- 
nation, wishing  to  secvire  the  temporal,  or,  in 

•  See  pjvge  184. 
16 


182 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


'4 

I 


&■ 


i 


i; 


the  langiiage  of  our  age,  the  maien^''  interests 
of  the  Monastery,  conceived  the  idc.«.  of  depos- 
iting in  a  cash-box.  apart  from  the  other  money 
of  the  house,  the  portiou^  of  the  rehgious,  as 
well  as  the  payment  for  board.     This  wise 
forethought  of  our  Mother  was  so  blessed  by 
God  that  the  cash-box  never  failed  to  provide 
the  community  witli  something  for  the  poor, 
notwithstanding   all  the  mischuues  and  re- 
verses of  two  hundred  years. 

Well,  dear  vender,  the  cash-box  of  bene- 
diction still  eri  48,  and  therein  is  now  placed 
that  portion  of  the  annual  revenue  that  may 
be  di-^posed  of  on  bd.alf  of  others.    Accord- 
ing to  our    au.ak,  this  treasury  has  never 
failed  for  any  g-od  work  ;  but  we  ought  not  to 
be  surpri-oa   at  this,  since  wo  know  that  it 
waP  to  Si.  Joseph  our  venerable  Mother  con- 
fidodthekey. 

There  yet  remains  to  be  noticed  the  ancient 
niche  in  the  garden,  to  which  some  of  our 
readers  have  made  many  a  pilgrimage  of  love. 
There  it  is  that  St.  Joseph  watches  ever  his 


f 


fc,iia**«^**«*'«*^***^'  ■"'  "^ 


Joseph. 


e  maU'.in'!  interests 
i  the  idea,  of  depos- 
om  the  other  money 
of  the  religious,  as 
board.     This  wise 
r  was  so  blessed  by 
rer  failed  to  provide 
ething  for  the  poor, 
misch.uufls  and  re- 
ars. 

I  cash-box  of  bene- 
lierein  is  now  placed 
al  revenue  that  may 
[  of  others.  Accord- 
treasury  has  never 
;  but  we  ought  not  to 
nee  wo  know  that  it 
enerable  Mother  con- 


be  noticed  the  ancient 
)  which  some  of  our 
y  a  pilgrimage  of  love, 
ieph  watches  ever  his 


a»«M*B»d*a**«*'»"**^^' 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^128     |2.5 

:^  1^  12.0 


m 


1.25    |||.4       1.6 

■• 6"     

► 

Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


y 


^^  ^' 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)872-4503 


i,.';  %"' .  :::nwi~ffr--^r'^'^'^<^^^^<um'^''?i^^s^^i>-y''''!sstimi:tr' 


&'<< 
^ 


0 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  IVIicroreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


.  r«!»sa&as»s  sm^''m&»^}^^<m^''i^'fmMx?-'  ■  -%  ?.: 


LEGianos  of  St.  Joseph. 


183 


whole  domain  of  the  cloister,  while  presiding 
over  the  recreation  of  his  daughters.  This 
statue,  marking  the  sacred  spot  where  for 
ten  years  reposed  the  mortal  remams  of  the 
Blessed  Mother  St.  Joseph,  has  special  at- 
tractions for  the  inmates  of  the  cloister,  who 
never  fail,  in  commencing  their  summer  walk, 
to  go  and  salute  with  an  "Ave,  Joseph,"  the 
sweet  and  giacious  imi^e. 

The  following  stanzas,  stolen  from  the  mod- 
est muse  of  the  cloister,  will  doubtless  remind 
some  of  our  readers  of  the  hours  they  them- 
selves have  spent  within  the  precincts  of  a 
convent,  sweet  and  touching  memories  of 
school-days  long  since  past. 


^B' 


ft 


.!vT' 


XXIV. 

AVE,  JOSEPH! 

Ave,  Joseph !  fill  David,  justi 
Vir  Marise,  di  qua  natus  est  Jesus  I 

LOVE  that  "Ave,  Joseph!"  'tia  an  old 
and  hallow'd  prayer, 
And  with  it  comes  the  voice  of  lakes, 
of  hills,  and  valleys  fair, — 
Of  rivers  grandly  flowing,  of  woodlands  stretching 

wide, — 
These  mingle  in  that  "Ave,"  in  one  o'erwhelming 

tide  I 

»Twaa  heard  amid  the  forests  that  mantled  all  the 

land, 
Where  trod  the  holy  misaioner,  his  crucifix  in  hand  ; 
Twas   heard  when  Heaven  the  compact  seaM— 

"Joseph,  the  guardian  thou, 
I  ratify  the  choice  New  France  has  made  by  public 

vow  1 " 


Leqends  op  St.  Joseph. 


185 


EPH! 

»vid,  justi 
fttus  est  JesuB  1 

ve,  Joseph!*^  'tis  an  old 

'd  prayer, 

jmes  the  voice  of  lakes, 

id  valleys  fair, — 

of  woodlands  stretching 

3,"  in  one  o'erwhelming 


sts  that  mantled  all  the 

ler,  his  crucifix  in  hand  ; 
n  the  compact  seal'd — 
in  thou, 
ance  has  made  by  public 


Oh  1  'twas  a  thought  with  blessings  rife  in  Joseph's 

hands  to  place 
The  youthful  colony  set  down  amid  the  Indian  race  ; 
Yes,  'twas  a  deed  of  wisdom,  such  patron  high  to 

gain — 
Where  Jesus  reigns,  and  Mary  pleads,  Joseph  prayg 

not  in  vain.  ..   , 

^  Soon,  hither  bound,  as  sent  by  Heaven,  when  gener- 
ous souls  appear,     r  ¥'  i  v     r  ' 

Fearless  Brebceuf,  I  see  thee,  with  thy  martyr'd 
brethren  near  1 

I  see  the  Red  Man  sudden  pause,  and  bless  the  sac- 
red Rood, 

And  ranks  of  Saints  rejoicing,  ready  to  give  their 

blood. 

Ye  hosts  of  fervent  Christians,  speak,  and  tell  your 
deeds  of  love ; 
Tell  us  the  secret  of  your  strength— me  Mnks  I 
hear  ye  say : 
"Yes,  ladles  fair,  who  chose  these  wilds  for  sake  of 
Him  above, 
T^was  Joseph  lull'd  the  winds  and  waves,  aad 
cheer'd  us  on  the  way  1 " 


r*:'>tfM«a«MMB(MWil 


XXV. 
THE  MYSTERIOUS  HOSTS. 
lATHEE  Jerome  of  Pistoia,  a  Oa- 
puohin,  and  Missionary  ApostoUo, 
was  sent  one  day  by  the  Sove- 
reign  Pontiff  to   Venice,   where 
he  was  to  embark  for  Oandia,  with  a  comp«.- 
ion  of  his  own  order.     Jonmeying  on  foot. 
Uke  ihe  Apostles,  the  two  Fathers,  wandenng 
at  the  close  of  day.  lost  their  way.    Having 
walked  on  for  some  time  without  foidrng jt 
again,  they  were  obliged  to  ^^V,Jot  ih'l 
were    e^austed   with    hunger    and   fatjg^. 
Ealling  on  their  knees,  invoking  Jesus.  Mary, 
and  Joseph,  the  August  Three,  who  are  ever 
the  protectors  of   traveUers,  ha^   known 
their  needs  and  experienced  their  dangers. 

Prayer  always  brings  happiness,  and  the 
two   rehgious   soon   found   that   tiieirs  was 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


187 


J. 

lOUS  HOSTS. 

me  of  Pistoia,  a  Oa- 
Missionary  Apostolic, 
ne  day  by  the  Sove- 
iff  to   Venice,   where     1 
3andia,  with  a  compaa- 

Jonmeying  on  foot, 
5WO  Fathers,  wandering 
)st  their  way.  Having 
time  without  finding  it 
iged  to  stop,  for  they 

hunger  and  fatigue. 
B,  invoking  Jesus,  Mary, 
ist  Three,  who  are  ever 
ayellers,  having  known 
ienced  their  dangers, 
ngs  happiness,  and  the 
found   that   theirs  was 


heard,  for  they  aU  at  once  perceived  a  hght 
at  a  Uttle  distance.    They  arrived  at  a  smaU 
house  inhabited  by  a  family  of  three  persons, 
-an  elderly  man,  a  young  woman,  and  a 
chad     All  in  the  house  was  so  exquisitely 
neat  and  clean  that  it  did  one  good  to  see  it ; 
and  although  the  tools  hung  on  the  wall  mdi- 
cated  the  dwelling  of  a  mechanic,  there  was 
something  refined  and  distinguished,  although 
extremely  simple,  in  the  manners  and  appear- 
ance  of  the  head  of  the  family.    The  features 
of  the  young  woman  were  wonderfuUy  sweet 
and  fair  to  look  upon ;  her  voice  was  soft  and 
melodious,  and  her  mien  was  characterized  by 
a  mixture  of  candor,  grace,  and  dignity.    As 
for  the  chUd  asleep  in  the  cradle,  one  would 
have  taken  him  for  the  heir  of  a  throne.    The 
traveUers  were  received  with  such  kind  hos- 
pitaUty  that  their  hearts  were  filled  with  the 
Uveliest   gratitude.    A  simple   but   plentiful 
meal  was  served  to  them;  and,  after  return- 
ing thanks  to  Heaven,  they  slept  a  refreshmg 
deep,  of  which  they  were  much  in  need. 


ii|WHHIII»«l'M'i»««W«HII«l' 


188 


Lbqbnds  of  St.  Joseth. 


Awaking   next    morning   at   the    dawn  of 
day,  animated  with  the  desire  of  renewing 
their  thanks  to  their  charitable  entertainers, 
they  were  surprised  to  find  themselves  in  the 
open  fields,  and  to  see  no  trace  of  the  house 
wherein  they  had  spent  the  night.    They  then 
perceived  that  the  mysterious  hosts  whose 
hospitality  they  had  received,  were  no  other 
than  the  Holy  Family  itself.    Humbling  them- 
selves profoundly,  and  admiring  the  divine 
goodness,  they  chanted  a  hymn  of  thanksgiv- 
ing, and  went  on  then-  way  rejoicing,  con- 
tinually blessing  the  names  of  Jesus,  Mary, 
and  Joseph.  > 


St.  Joseth. 


ning   at   the    dawn  of 
he  desire  of  renewing 
charitable  entertainers, 
3  find  themselves  in  the 
e  no  trace  of  the  house 
it  the  night.    They  then 
aysterious  hosts  whose 
received,  were  no  other 
itself.    Humbling  them- 
id   admiring  the  divine 
d  a  hymn  of  thanksgiv- 
leu-  way  rejoicing,  con- 
names  of  Jesus,  Mary, 


XXVI. 

AN  EXTRAORDINARY  VOCATION. 

IMONGST  the  numerous  monuments 
that  strike  the  eye  of  the  traveller 
who  visits  Montreal  for  the  first 
time,  there  exists  one  which  is  at 
once  remarkable  for  its  site  and  its  vast  pro- 
portions.    This    magnificent    establishment, 
popularly  known  as  the  Hotel  Dieu,  is  seated 
on  the  slope  of  Mount  Eoyal,  and  commands 
a  view  of  the  whole  city.    It  is  inhabited  by  a 
congregation  of  virgins,  much  devoted  to  the 
glorious  Patriarch :  hence  the  name  of  "Hos- 
pital Nuns  of  St.  Joseph,"  which  they  took  at 
the  very  beginning  of  their  Institute.    The 
reader  must,  however,  bear  in  mind  that  this 
house  was  originally  founded  in  the  very  heart 


jrfMIMiyMjM'WlWltW 


Leobnbs  of  St.  Joseph. 


of  the  city,  close  by  the  ancient  church  of 
Notre  Dame.  There  it  was  that,  for  over  two 
centuries,  the  generous  Daughters  of  St.  JoHeph 
carried  on  their  work  of  charity  and  devotion. 
There,  too,  occurred  the  fact  wo  are  about  to 
relate.  We  will  give  it  as  it  is  related  in  the 
history  of  this  institution. 

The  record  states  that  at  the  time  when  the 
Reverend  Mother  C^loron  directed  the  house 
of  the  Hospital  Nuns  of  St.  Joseph,  in  Mon- 
treal, the  Lord  conducted  to  His  Sanctuary,  by 
most  marvellous  ways,  a  young  American  Pro- 
testant.   Brought  up  in  the  bosom  of  heresy, 
and  converted  to  CathoUcity,  she  revived  in 
that  house  the  edifying  example  and  the  apos- 
tolic zeal  formerly  admired  in  Sister^ilver.  We 
speak  of  Miss  Allen,  daughter  of  the  American 
officer,  Ethan  Allen,  born  in  the  State  of  Ver- 
mont. Her  mother,  Fran^oise  Montr^sor,  hav- 
ing lost  her  heroic  husband  when  her  daughter 
^as  still  very  young,  had  married,  as  her 
second  husband,  Dr.  Penniman.,  Miss  Allen, 
endowed  with  a  precocious  and  penetratmg 


«'!3 


Jt.  Joseph.  > 

be  ancient  church  of 
was  that,  for  over  two 
)aughter8  of  St.  Joseph 
charity  and  tlevotion. 
3  fact  wo  are  abont  to 
as  it  is  related  in  the 

n. 

,t  at  the  time  when  the 
■on  directed  the  house 
of  St.  Joseph,  in  Mon- 
jd  to  His  Sanctuary,  by 
a  young  American  Pro- 
1  the  bosom  of  heresy, 
loUcity,  she  revived  in 
5  example  and  the  apos- 
iredinSister^ilver.  We 
lughter  of  the  American 
orn  in  the  State  of  Ver- 
•an§oise  Montr^sor,  hav- 
band  when  her  daughter 
,  had  married,  as  her 
Penniman. ,  Miss  Allen, 
30ciou8  and  penetrating 


Lboends  of  St.  JosRpn. 


191 


mind,  early  applied  herself  to  reading.  But 
having  only  under  her  hand  romances,  or 
works  written  by  Deists,  she  became  an  un- 
believer, even  before  knowing  religion.  Never- 
theless, the  natural  rectitude  of  her  judgment 
made  her  suspect  that  the  truth  could  not  be 
found  in  such  works,  and  she  often  had  con- 
ferences with  her  mother,  trying  to  discern  the 
true  from  the  false.  Having  heard  people 
speak  of  Catholics,  who  were  described  to  her 
in  the  most  unfavorable  colors,  she  wished  to 
make  a  journey  to  Montreal,  to  see  for  herself 
whethov  wlia,t  wus  said  of  them  was  time.  She 
foresaw  that  her  step-father,  who  was  tenderly 
attached  to  her,  would  hardly  consent  to  her 
going,  in  the  fear  that  she  might  embrace  the 
Catholic  religion. 

Without  disclosing,  then,  the  real  motive  of 
her  journey,  she  gave  as  a  reason  her  wish  to 
learn  the  French  language,  and  Dr.  Penniman 
yielded  to  her  entreaties.  Nevertheless,  before 
her  departure,  her  parents  insisted  that  she 
should   receive  baptism.    She  long  resisted 


'i 


ttmlitmi 


192 


Leoends  op  St.  Joseph. 


their  will ;  at  length,  to  please  her  mother,  she 
complied  with  their  wishes.  Being  then  an 
unbeliever,  she  did  nothing  but  laugh  during 
the  ceremony,  for  which  reason  the  Presby- 
tevian  minister.  Mr.  Barber,  could  not  help 
giving  her  a  severe  reprimand.  She  was  then 
about  twenty-one. 

In  Montreal,  she  presented  herself  at  tho 
boarding-school  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Congre- 
gation of  Our  Lady;  and  whatever  inconve- 
nience there  might  have  been  in  admitting  a 
young  Protestant  into  that  house,  they  wil- 
lingly received  her,  hoping  that  while  learning 
the  French  tongue,  she  would  gain  the  still 
more  precious  knowledge  of  the  true  faith. 
She  was  soon  remarked  for  a  fixed  adherence 
to  her  own  opinions.    It  was  only  on  the  most 
indisputable  proof  that  she  adopted  the  views 
of  others,  and  never  concealed  from  her  teach- 
ers her  incredulity  in  matters  of  religion. 

One  day,  one  of  the  Sisters,  by  an  impulse 
which  must  be  attributed  to  Divine  inspira- 
tion, asked  Miss  Allen  if  she  would  not  take 


'.  Joseph. 

ease  her  mother,  she 
168.  Being  then  an 
ng  but  laugh  during 
reason  the  Presby- 
rber,  could  not  help 
nand.    She  was  then 

jented  herself  at  tho 
Jisters  of  the  Oongre- 
nd  whatever  inconve- 
9  been  in  admitting  a 
that  house,  they  wil- 
ing that  while  learning 
I  would  gain  the  still 
Ige  of  the  true  faith. 
I  for  a  fixed  adherence 
t  was  only  on  the  most 
she  adopted  the  views 
icealed  from  her  teach- 
latters  of  religion. 

Sisters,  by  an  impulse 
ited  to  Divine  inspira- 

if  she  would  not  take 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


193 


to  the  altar  where  the  Blessed  Sacrament  re- 
posed, a  vase  of  flowers  which  had  been  given 
her :  at  the  same  time,  she  recommended  her 
to  adore  Our  Lord  on  entering  the  sanctuary. 
The  young  lady  went  off  laughing,  resolved  to 
do  nothing  of  the  kind.     Having  reached  the 
railing,  she  opens  the  door,  and  suddenly  feels 
herself  stopped,  and  without  power  tp  go  far- 
ther.    Surprised  at  an  obstruction  so  extra- 
ordinary, she  makes  three  several  attempts  to 
go  on;  at  length,  struck  and  overcome,  she 
falls  on  her  knees,  and,  in  the  sincerity  of  her 
.heart,  adores  Jesus  Christ,  of  whose  presence 
she  is  that   very  moment    convinced.     She 
immediately  retires  to  the  lower  end  of  the 
church,  where,  bursting  into  tears,  she  says : 
"After  such  a  miracle,  I  must  give  myself  up 
to  my  Saviour." 

Still,  she  said  nothing  to  her  teachers  of 
what  had  occurred ;  only,  she  asked  to  be  in- 
structed, and  soon  after  consented  to  go  to 
confession.  When  srfficiently  instructed,  she 
made  her  solemn  abjuration,  and  was  baptised 

17 


.1^' 


194 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


by  Mr.  Le  Saulnier,  at  that  time  Vicar  of 
Montreal,  her  former  baptism  having  been 
null  by  reason  of  the  want  of  consent  on  her 
part.  Finally,  she  made  her  first  communion, 
and  resolved,  from  that  moment,  to  embrace 
the  rehgious  life. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Penniman,  informed  of  the  ^ 
change,  arrived  in  Montreal,  very  much  dis- 
pleased, and  took  their  daughter  home.  There 
she  sp^nt  six  months,  during  which  she  had 
much  to  suffer,  especially  fi'om  her  stepfather, 
who  was  bitterly  opposed  to  the  CathoUc  re- 
ligion.   Lent  being  come,  she  rigorously  ob- 
served the  fast  and  abstmence,  and  carried 
her  austerities  so  far  that  she  injured  her 
health,  naturally  very  deUcate.    Disregarding 
.  all  family  ties,  she  declared  to  her  parents 
that  she  would  embrace  the  religious  life,  and 
had  made  her  final  decision.     Her  mother, 
who  loved  her  tenderly,  and  desired  only  her 
daughter's  happiness,  at  length  gave  her  con- 
sent, and  accompanied  her  to  Montreal  in  the 
following  Spring. 


OF  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


195 


)r,  at  that  time  Vicar  of 
ler  baptism  having  been 
he  want  of  consent  on  her 
made  her  first  communion, 
that  moment,  to  embrace 

'enniman,  informed  of  the 
Montreal,  very  much  dis- 
heir  daughter  home.  There 
iths,  during  which  she  had 
)ecially  from  her  stepfather, 
apposed  to  the  Catholic  re- 
ig  come,  she  rigorously  ob- 
,nd  abstinence,  and  carried 
)  far  that  she  injured  her 
very  delicate.    Disregarding 
he  declared  to  her  parents 
nbrace  the  religious  life,  and 
Inal  decision.     Her  mother, 
nderly,  and  desired  only  her 
oess,  at  length  gave  her  con- 
anied  her  to  Montreal  in  the 


As  yet.  Miss  Allen  thought  of  no  community 
in  particular,  her  only  desire  being  to  conse- 
crate herself  to  God  by  a  religious  life.  With 
a  view  to  know  her  vocation,  she  visited  the 
churches  of  Ville-Marie,  and  amongst  others 
that  of  the  Hotel  Dieu.  Scarcely  had  she 
cast  her  eyes  on  the  picture  over  the  high 
altar,  representing  the  Holy  Family,  and  fixed 
them  on  the  face  of  St.  Joseph,  than  she 
cried  aloud  to  her  mother : 

"That  is  just  his  portrait.  You  see,  my 
dear  mother,  St.  Joseph  wants  me  here.  He 
it  was  who  saved  my  hfe,  by  delivering,  me 
from  the  monster  that  was  going  to  devour 


me. 


s.WWj  ,i»v»i- 


She  then  reminded  her  mother  of  a  mem- 
orable fact  that  had  taken  place  when  she 
was  about  twelve  years  old.  Walking  on  the 
banks  of  a  river,  and  turning  her  attention 
to  the  water,  which  was  in  violent  motion, 
she  saw  coming  up  out  of  it  a  huge  animal 
of  monstrous  form,  who,  coming  towards  her, 
made  her  terribly  afraid.     What  increase^ 


I 


mini  Mill n'wiTHW"^ 


196 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


her  terror  was  that  it  seemed  as  though  she 
could  not  take  her  eyes  from  off  this  monster, 
and  could  not  make  even  the  slightest  at- 
tempt to  fly. 

In  this  fearful  emergency,  she  thought  she 
perceived  near  her  a  bald  old  man,  clad  in  a 
brown  cloak,  and  with  a  staff  in  his  hand, 
who  took  her  by  the  arm  and  enabled  her  to 
move,  saying:   "Little  girl,  what  dost  thou 
here?    Fly."    Wliich  she  quickly  did.    When 
a  little  way  off,  she  turned  to  look  at  the  old 
man,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen.    As 
soon,  as  she  reached  home,  her  mother,  see- 
ing her  so  scared  and  bewildered,  understood 
that  something  unusual  had  occurred  to  her. 
The  child  related,  as  well  as  she  could,  tjxe 
cause  of  her  fright,  and  the  assistance  she 
had  received  from  the  unknown   old   man. 
Her  mother  immediately  sent  a  servant  in 
search  of  the  old  man,  in  order  to  testify  her 
gratitude.    After  a  most  diligent  search,  no 
traces  of  him  being  found,  no  one  ever  knew 
what  had  become  of  him. 


T.  Joseph. 

emed  as  though  she 
rom  off  this  monster, 
ren  the  slightest  at- 

incy,  she  thought  she 
Id  old  man,  clad  in  a 
a  staff  in  his  hand, 
n  and  enabled  her  to 
girl,  -what  dost  thou 
le  quickly  did.    When 
led  to  look  at  the  old 
hing  to  be  seen.    As 
Dme,  her  mother,  see- 
)ewildered,  understood 
[  had  occurred  to  her. 
veil  as  she  could,  t^e 
ad  the  assistance  she 
)  unknown   old   man. 
ely  sent  a  servant  in 
in  order  to  testify  her 
)st  diligent  search,  no 
and,  no  one  ever  kne'W 
m. 


Lkqends  op  St.  Joseph. 


197 


Recognizing,  then,  in  the  features  of  St. 
Joseph,  in  the  picture  of  the  Holy  Family, 
the  face  of  that  old  man,  to  whom  she  owed 
her  Ufe,  Miss  Allen  felt  herself  more  confirmed 
than  ever  in  her  wish  to  embrace  the  reli- 
gious Ufe,  and  was  convinced  that  she  was  to 
become  a  daughter  of  St.  Joseph.    It  matters 
little  whether  that  monster  and  that  old  man 
showed  themselves  to  her  in  a  real  and  cor- 
poral manner,  or  whether  that  sight  was  but 
an  impression  made  on  her  mind.    In  what- 
ever way  it  had  occurred.  Miss  Allen   re- 
mained convinced  that  the  old  man  had  pre- 
served her  from  death,  and  the  remembrance 
of  his  features  was  so  stamped  on  her  mind, 
that,  as  we  have  said,  thirteen  years  after, 
when  she  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  picture  in 
the  Hotel  Dieu,  she  was  struch  with  the  iden- 
tity of  that  face  and  that  costume,  and  could 
not  help  expressing  her  surprise  aloud.    That 
animal,  whose  approach  she  could  not  fly,  and 
who  was  ready  to  devour  her,  was,  doubtless, 
a  figure  of  the  still  more  cruel  monster  of 


198  liEOifflM  o>  St.  Jostoh. 

heresy  .nd  «n^«^^-\St.  Joseph 

InsUtute  OS  a  safe  refuge.  ' 

Some  months  later,  Miss  Allen  entered  the 
no^Tate  of  the  daughters  of  8t  Jos^h 
rai  her  death,  ..hich  took  place  u.  the  elev 
Lh  year  after  her  ehtering  into  rdag.on,»h, 

justifted,  by  her  zeal,  her  '<f<^\'^  ^^ 
other  Christian  virtues,  the  hopes  which  to 
olmnnity  had  conceived  of  her  after  and. 

avocation. 


c.  Joseph. 

m  whicli  St.  Joseph 
sr  to  the  house  of  his 

'  .i 

[iss  Allen  entered  the 
iters  of  St.  Joseph. 
,ok  place  in  the  elev- 
)ring  into  reUgion,  she 
ler  regularity,  and  all 
the  hopes  which  the 
ved  of  her  after  such 


xxvn. 

THE  LITTLE  CABIN-BOY. 

FBIGATE,  homeward  bound  from 
China,  was   already  nearing  the 
French  coast.    Although  the  night 
was  advanced,  and  the  sea  run- 
ning  high,  gaiety  prevailed  on  board. 

A  cabin-boy,  amongst  others,  was  amusmg 
the  crew  by  various  unsuccessful  attempts  to 
catch  a  Uttle  bird  that  seemed  to  have  come, 
less  to  seek  an  asylum  in  the  ship's  riggmg, 
than  to  play  his  part  in  the  acrobatic  exer- 
cises  of  the  Uttle  cabin-boy.    At  times  he 
even  seemed  fatigued,  and   hopped    smging 
on  to  a  yard,  waiting,  almost  asleep,  till  the 
urchin,  climbing  Uke  a  cat.  and  suspending 
himself  like  a  monkey,  had  got  within  some 
paces   of   him.     And   when   the   cabm-boy 


'.1 


aoo 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


reacl.od  out  his  arm  to  seize  him,  the  mis- 
chievous little  bird  took  wing,  and  went  to 
perch  farther  away. 

The  captain  was  walliing  on  his  poop  alone, 
smiling,  between  whiles,  unnoticed  by  the 
others,  at  this  trial  of  agility  between  the 
child  and  the  bird.  It  seemed  as  though  he 
took  an  interest  in  what  was  going  on. 

The  cabin-boy,  in  one  of  his- feats,  had 
oUmbed  to  the  highest  yard  of  the  main-mast. 
He  was  clinging  by  one  hand  to  a  rope,  when 
the  frigate  gave  a  sudden  lurch,  his  feet  shd 
off  the  slippery  yard,  and  he  hung  poised  m 
the  air ;  then  let  go  his  hold,  fell  on  the  net- 
ting,  rebounded  like  a  ball,  and  was  thrown 

into  the  sea. 

A.  cry  resounded  through  the  vessel. 

The  captam,  beside  himself,  runs  to  his 
cabin,  throws  himseU  on  his  knees,  his  head 
in  his  hands,  and  begins  to  sob  aloud. 

He  was  a  father  to  his  crew,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  man  full  of  faith-of  old  French 
faith.    All  at  once  he  starts  up.    Two  steps, 


3t.  Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


201 


0  seize  him,  the  mis- 
)k  wing,  and  went  to 

dng  on  his  poop  alone, 
es,  unnoticed  by  the 
,£  agility  between  the 
t  seemed  as  though  he 
,t  was  going  on. 
one  of  his 'feats,  had 
yard  of  the  main-mast, 
e  hand  to  a  rope,  when 
[den  lurch,  his  feet  slid 
and  he  hung  poised  in 
lis  hold,  fell  on  the  net- 

1  ball,  and  was  thrown 

L'ough  the  vessel. 

ie  himself,  runs  to  his 

:  on  his  knees,  his  head 

ins  to  sob  aloud. 

bo  his  crew,  and  at  the 

of  faith— of  old  French 

e  starts  up.    Two  steps, 


and  he  is  before  an  image  of  St.  Joseph,  which 
he  had  placed  in  a  Uttle  framed  niche,  at  the 
entrance  of  his  dressing-room.  He  opens  the 
door  which  conceals  it  from  stranger  eyes. 

"St.  Joseph!"  he  cries,  with  tearful  eyes  and 
hands  stretched  towards  the  image,  "St.  Jo- 
seph, they  say  you  are  so  powerful.  .  .  .  Well, 
if  you  save  this  child,  I  promise  you  that— you 
shall  be  pleased  with  me ! " 

The  brave  and  worthy  captain,  notwith- 
standing his  sailor-Uke  devotion,  knew  not  well 
how  to  put  his  promise  in  words.  He  sits 
down,  his  head  still  in  his  hands  : — 

"Poor  child!  poor  child!— and  his  mother!" 
And  he  continued  to  weep  like  a  real  father. 

More  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  thus. 
Some  one  knocks  at  the  door :  it  is  the  lieu- 
tenant. 

"Commander,"  said  he,  "I  hope  they  will 

save  him ! " 

"  What  do  you  say  ?    Who  ?  " 

"The  little  cabin-boy.  They  are  trying  to 
fish  him  up  agaiit" 


202 


Legends  of  St.  Josefh. 


w) 


The  commander  starts  up,  almost  in  a  pas- 
sion. 

"  Unhappy  that  you  are !  You  don't  think 
of  it !— with  that  sea,  and  in  daikness !  One 
misfortune  is  enough,  without  making  five  or 
six  more." 

"  Have  no  fear,  commander." 

"  I  don't  want — do  you  hear?— I  don't  want 
— ^poor  child  I " 

"  But,  commander, " 

"There  is  no  but!— I  don't  want —  poor 
mother!" 

"  Commander,  it  is  already  done ! " 

"What?" 

"Well,  commander, whilst  they  were  getting 
out  a  boat  with  five  men  in  it,  life-preservers 
were  thrown  out,  and  — hold!  I'm  sure  they 
will  bring  him  up ! "  And  without  waiting  for 
an  answer,  the  lieutenant  goes  out. 

"You  are  mad !— poor  child !"  says  the  cap- 
tain, beginning  to  pace  his  cabin  to  and  fro. 

"Oh,  St.  Joseph!— if  you  will  only  save 
him ! " 


St.  Josefh. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


208 


ts  up,  almost  in  a  pas- 
are!  You  don't  think 
ind  in  daikness!  One 
vithout  making  five  or 

aander." 

ou  hear? — ^I  don't  want 


—I  don't  want— poor 

Iready  done ! " 

whilst  they  were  getting 
len  in  it,  life-preservers 
—  hold!  I'm  sure  they 
And  without  waiting  for 
int  goes  out. 
or  child !"  says  the  cap- 
)  his  cabin  to  and  fro. 
—if  you  will  only  save 


He  was  going  to  hasten  after  the  lieutenant, 
when  the  latter  returns,  his  face  beaming  with 

joy- 

"  Saved !  commander,  saved  I  *' 

"  Come,  no  jesting  I " 

"  No,  commander ;  all  the  men  are  aboard, 
and  they  have  brought  him  up ! " 

"What's  to  be  done?  They  must  throw 
him  in  again !— yet,  no— stay,  we  will  give  him 
to  his  mother.  Poor  woman ! — Oh !  what  need 
had  he  of  cUrabing  so  high ! " 

"Commander,  if  they  give  him  to  his  mo- 
ther, they  will  give  him  alive !  The  doctor 
says  it  is  nothing." 

"  It  is  nothing !     How  you  do  go  on ! " 

"The  doctor  has  made  him  throw  up  the 
water  he  had  swallowed,  and  he  says  there  is 
nothing  serious.  The  coldness  of  the  water 
prevented  the  cerebral  congestion  that  his  fall 
would  have  produced,  and  he  was  able  to  take 
hold  himself  of  the  cord  that  was  thrown  to 
him.  He  is  almost  quite  conscious  now.  To- 
morrow he  will  be  on  his  feet." 


204 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


1 
it* 


«  That  is  easily  said.    We  shall  see." 
"  Come  and  see  now,  commander ! " 
It  was  true  enough.    And  the  next  day  the 
cabin-boy  was  on  his  feet,  and  able  to  land 
and  go  to  see  his  mother. 

"Boys,"  said  the  commander  to  his  men, 
..  if  the  cabm-boy  owes  the  Good  Mother  a  big 
taper.  I  owe  St.  Joseph-tf^ih !    1  don't  know 
what-but  I  told  him  he  should  be  pleased  with 
me!...  Boys,  I  have  only  this  to  tell  you :  St. 
Joseph  is  the  first  of  aU  the  Samts.    It  is  to 
him  that  we  must  have  recourse.    We  must 
believe  that  the  good  God  gave  him  his  power, 
that  he  might  save  our  poor  little  cabin-boy. 
So  now  let  it  be  understood  that  St.  Joseph  is 
patron  of  the  ship.    To-morrow  let  us  all  go 
to  Mass. . . .  I  wUl  offer  a  golden  heart  in  the 
name  of  the  whole  crew." 

"Your  pardon,  commander,"  broke  in  the 
Ueutenant,  "if  you  allow  us,  we  will  all  con- 
tribute  for  that   purpose.    What   say   you, 

friends?" 
"Ay,  ay,  sir." 


Bt.  Joseph. 

We  shall  Bee." 
commander ! " 

And  the  next  day  the 
feet,  and  able  to  land 

9r. 

)mmander  to  his  men, 
a  the  Good  Mother  a  big 
—faith!    1  don't  know 
he  should  be  pleaded  with 
anly  this  to  tell  you :  St. 
aU  the  Saints.    It  is  to 
ive  recourse.    We  must 
God  gave  him  his  power, 
>ur  poor  Uttle  cabin-boy. 
irstood  that  St.  Joseph  is 
To-morrow  let  us  all  go 
tor  a  golden  heart  in  the 

ew." 

•mmander,"  broke  in  the 
lUow  us,  we  will  all  oon- 
irpose.    What  say  you, 


Lboends  of  St.  Joseph. 


205 


••Well,  as  you  all  wish  it,  let  us  offer  the 
heart  together  1  I  will  see  to  the  rest."  (The 
rest  was  a  pair  of  magnificent  chandeUers  for 

St.  Joseph's  altar,  in  the  church  of ). 

"  Come,  boys,  St.  Joseph  for  ever ! " 
"  St.  Joseph  for  ever !— Long  live  the  com- 
mander!" shouted  the  three  hundred  men  who 
formed  the  crew  of  the  frigate. 


18 


__^'r^^ 


i*i»** 


XXVIII. 
TEE  PEARL  LOST  AND  FOUND. 

IHE  weather  has  been  fine  during 
the  Feast  of  the  Azymes,  which 
has  just  taken  place.     The  fami- 
lies of  pilgrims  are  leaving  Jeru- 
salem, each  one  hastening  to  take  their  home- 
ward way.    On  the  road  to  GaUlee  there  is  a 
crowd  of   people,  like  an  army  compressed 
into  a  mountain  gorge.    These  are  the  people 
from  the  seashore,  and  the  banks  of  the  Jor- 
dan, and  from  Nairn,  and  Oana,  and  Capha^ 
naum,  who,  dwelling  in  the  same    district, 
group  together  for  the  homeward   journey. 
If  the  night  must  be  passed  on  the  road,  if 
any  unlooked-for  occurrence  takes  place,  it 
will  be  more  convenient  for  all  to  travel  in 
company. 


Leoendb  of  St.  Jobbph. 


207 


nn. 

ST  AND  FOUND. 

[. 

has  been  fine  during 
of  the  Azymes,  which 
jiken  place.     The  fami- 
grims  are  leaving  Jeru- 
tiing  to  take  their  home- 
)ad  to  Galilee  there  is  a 
e  an  army  compressed 
I.    These  are  the  people 
id  the  banks  of  the  Jor- 
,  and  Oana,  and  Caphaj> 
^  in  the  same    district, 
the  homeward   journey. 
B  passed  on  the  road,  if 
scurrence  takes  place,  it 
aient  for  all  to  travel  in 


The  beauty  of  the  spring  was  already 
abroad  on  the  land;  the  fig-tree  was  in  bud 
and  blossom;  almond  and  date-trees  flour- 
ifllied  here.and  there;  the  scent  of  rosemary 
was  wafted  on  the  air,  and  the  warbling  of 
birds  was  heard  on  every  side.  And  man, 
too,  is  changed  in  the  spring-time ;  his  heart 
seems  more  pious,  more  disposed  to  the  love 

of  God. 

As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  that  fair  AprU 
day,  groups  are  to  be  seen  journeying  along, 
full  of  gaiety  and  glee.     Of  a  suddeu  the  old 
men  commence  aloud:  "Alleluia!  blessed  be 
Thou,  O  God  of   Abraham  1"    Farther  on, 
maid  and  matron  repeat  the  prayer,  word  by 
word,  in  their  hearts,  and,  although  thoughts 
vary  according  to   the   divei-sity  of  charac- 
ters,   nevertheless,    woman,   notwithstanding 
her  weakness,  is  more  apt  to  praise  God,  for 
she  loves  more.    Men  of  mature  age  talk  over 
the  gossip  of  the  day,  animadvert  on  their 
governor,  the  rapacious  Roman,  and   curse 
those  uninvited  guests.    The  young  men  ap- 


208 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


plaud,  and,  with  ligbt  hearts,  sing  and  chat 
about  the  young  girls.  The  children,  oh !  the 
children  laugh  merrily,  and  skim  around  like 
swallows.  Here  and  there  the  asses  under 
their  charge  bray  in  the  meadows,  as  if  m 

answer.  \ 

So  the  tedium  of  the  road  is  beguiled:  a 
league,  two  leagues,  are  soon  passed.  By 
nightfall  they  have  journeyed  several  leagues. 
A  grove  of  olive-trees  appears  just  in  time  to 
give  a  shelter  for  the  night;  water  is  not 
wantmg,  for  a  fresh,  limpid  stream  winds 
along  tLe  outskirt  of  the  wood. 

The  tribe  at  length  pitches  its  tents.    Each 
famUy  busies    itself    preparing    the  evening 
meal.    Wallets  are  emptied  of  their  remain- 
ing contents ;  some  sUces  of  cooked  lamb  and 
bread,  some  dried  fish— more  than  enough  for. 
the  simple  meal.    The  people  are  not  hard 
to  please ;  at  home  or  abroad,  they  are  con- 
tent with  Uttle.     Some  vegetables,  a  fig  or 
two,  a  vurtcous   companion— that   is  quite 
enough  for  a  journey. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph, 


209 


OP  St.  Joseph. 


ght  hearts,  sing  and  chat 
:1s.  The  children,  oh !  the 
rily,  and  skim  around  like 
nd  there  the  asses  under 
in  the  meadows,  as  if  in 

of  the  road  is  beguiled:  a 
es,  are  soon  passed.  By 
)  journeyed  several  leagues, 
•ees  appears  just  in  time  to 
r  the  night;  water  is  not 
resh,  limpid  stream  winds 
b  of  the  wood. 

igth  pitches  its  tents.    Each 
self    preparing    the  evening 
re  emptied  of  their  remain- 
le  slices  of  cooked  lamb  and 
I  fish— more  than  enough  for 
The  people  are  not  hard 
me  or  abroad,  they  are  con- 
Some  vegetables,  a  fig  or 
companion— that  is  quite 
imey. 


The  young  people  run  rigVi  and  left,  some 
near,  some  far,  to  fetch  water  and  wood ; 
some  go  to  the  neighboring  cottages  to  seek 
salt  and  vessels,  and  the  women  are  all  at 
work    preparing    the    meal.     People    there- 
abouts  are  very  hospitable ;  flocks  are  graz- 
ing aU  around,  and  the  children  jump  with 
joy  around  the  camp-fires,  for  they  are  sure 
of  having  milk.    MeanwhUe,  night  approaches 

and  sUence  begins  to  prevail ;  the  weary  birds 

drop  into  their  nests,  and.  nature  reposes  in 

twilight  calm. 


n. 


Here  and  there  a  star  appeared,  and  soon 
the  calm,  azure  vault  was  full  of  gUttering 
Ughts.  like  a  shoal  of  little  fish,  with  golden 
scales,  bathing   in  the    cahu.  Umpid   ether 
The  frugal  supper  was  soon  ended;   night 
spread  its  gloomy  curtain  over  all;  the  rus- 
thng  of  the  trees  and  the  hum  of  human 
voices  ascend  together  in  prayer  to  Him  who 
in  the  inaccessible  heights  of   His   eternal 


210 


Legends  of  St.  Jo8bpi=i. 


dwelUng-place,  worketh  so  many  marvels. 
He  seems  to  praise  Himself  in  His  works 
before  our  world,  that  men  may  love  and 

revere  Him. 

After  the  moon,  then  at  the  full,  had  set, 
the  night  was  dark  and  still,  deliciously  mild 
.  and  balmy,  disposing  to  sleep.    And  the  pil- 
giims  slept,  although  here  and  there  might 
still  be  heard,  at  times,  some  sighs  of  sorrow, 
bome  watchers  there  were,  who,  considering 
face  to  face  the  ineffable  mysteries,  held  com- 
munion with  the  unseen  world  beneath  that 
dazzling  dome  of  gold  and  jewels.    Oh!  the 
child,  by  his  faith;  the   virgin,  by  her  love; 
the  old  man,  by  his  hope,  tend  unceasingly 
towards  their  Father,  and  raise  their  weeping 
eyes  to  heaven ;  sleep  does  not  so  soon  weigh 
down  their  eyelids. 

Suddenly  a  noise   resounds   through   the* 
wood ;  a  wailing  voice  and  a  clapping  of  hands 
are  confusedly  heard.    Louder  and  more  dis- 
tinctly comes  the  sound  to  the  ear,  and  soon 
it  awakens  all  the  echoes  of  the  hills.    Those 


'«''»fi«r 


8t.  Josbpf.. 

a  so  many  marvels, 
limself  in  His  works 
b  men  may  love  and 

a  at  the  full,  had  set, 
d  still,  deliciously  mild 
3  sleep.    And  the  pil- 
here  and  there  might 
,  some  sighs  of  sorrow, 
were,  who,  considering 
lie  mysteries,  held  com- 
len  world  beneath  that 
and  jewels.    Oh !  the 
le   virgin,  by  her  love ; 
hope,  tend  unceasingly 
and  raise  their  weeping 
does  not  so  soon  weigh 

resounds   through   the ' 
and  a  clapping  of  hands 
Louder  and  more  dis- 
nd  to  the  ear,  and  soon 
loes  of  the  hills.    Those 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


211 


who  are  still  awake  first  raise  their  heads  and 
listen :  they  are  seeking  some  one  who  is  lost ; 
the  sweet  accents  of  a  touchingly  mournful 
voice  are  heard  unceasingly. 

" It  is  our  Mary,"  said  the  Nazarenes,  "our 

holy,  our  beloved  sister,  Mary.    Alasl  it  is 

too  true ;  her  Child  has  not  once  been  seen 

since  the  journey  began.    Poor  Mary!  how 

acute  must  be  her  sufferings ! "    And  they  all 

hasten  towards  her,  through  the  thickly-falling 

dew.    At  the  same  time  the  name  of  Jesus, 

"  O  Jesus !  Jesus ! "  is  everywhere  heard,  and 

all  over  the  so-lately  slumbering  camp  that 

sweet  name  is  being  repeated. 

The  entire  tribe  is  in  motion ;  the  heaviest 
sleepers  waking  with  a  start,  are,  in  their  turn, 
deeply  touched  by  the  misfortune  of  their 
neighbor.  The  old  men,  as  usual,  indulge  in 
recollection. 

"Yea,  blessed,"  they  say,  "were  that  family 
—Joseph,  Mary,  and  the  Child  Jesus!  This 
triple  branch  of  the  house  of  David  flourished 
visibly  before  our  eyes,  smelling  sweetly  before 


ai2 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


the  Lord.    And  Jehovah  is  their  protector. 
Our  eyes  liave  seen  miracles.    And  do  not  the 
prophecies  say  that  in  Bethlehem  was  to  be 
bom  that  herald,  that  Messiah  of  God,  for  His 
people  Israel?    And  was  not  Jesus  bom  in 
Bethlehem  ?    And  that  beautiful  star  that  was 
seen  above  His  crib!    And  those  wise  men, 
those  kings  from  far  countries!    Was  ever 
such  sweetness  seen  in  a  child's  eyes  as  there 
is  in  those  of  Jesus  ?    And  His  face,  why  it  is 
like  unto  that  of  a  holy  prophet!    Tmly,  in 
all  this  God  conceals  something  extraordinary. 
As  to  Joseph,  ye  know  he  is  our  old  friend; 
but  this  Mary,  she  truly  looks  a  queen." 

A  strong,  but  broken  voice  now  re-echoes 
through  the  wood.    It  is  undoubtedly  Joseph, 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  caUing  to  his  spouse, 
and  advising  her  to  seek  repose.    Very  soon 
the  noise  of  the  sdarch  dies  away,  and  aU  is 
again  silent.     Far  away  from  the    sleeping 
crowd  might  be  heard  the  voice  of  mourning, 
and  words  of  consolation. 
"Peace  be  with  thee,  Mary!"  one  was  heaid 


■MMH 


4 


r.  Joseph. 

li  is  their  protector, 
sles.    And  do  not  the 
Jethlehem  was  to  be 
assiah  of  God,  for  His 
ts  not  Jesus  bom  in 
)eautiful  star  that  was 
And  those  wise  men, 
jountri^s!    Was  ever 
ft  child's  eyes  as  there 
jid  His  face,  why  it  is 
y  prophet !    Ti-uly,  in 
[nething  extraordinary. 

he  is  our  old  friend; 
r  looks  a  queen." 
a  voice  now  re-echoes 
is  undoubtedly  Joseph, 

calling  to  his  spouse, 
jek  repose.  Very  soon 
h  dies  away,  and  all  is 
ray  from  the   sleeping 

the  voice  of  mourning, 

on. 

>,  Mary  I"  one  was  heard 


Legends  of  St.  iTosEPH.  218 


to  say.    "Wherefore  dost  thou  weep  thus? 
No  harm  hath  befallen,  nor  can  befall,  the 
Child.    The  hairs  of  our  heads  are  numbered, 
how  much  His  steps,  which  Angels  guard.    If 
I  am  His  guardian,  and  thou  His  mother,  it  is 
only  by  a  special  favor  of  the  Almighty.     Ta 
the' end  that  His  holy  wiU  may  be  done,  He  is 
pleased  to  make  us  the  servants  of  His  Son. 
What  harm  hath  Herod,*with  aU  his  power, 
been  able  to  do  Him?    Cahn  thy  fears,  then, 
0  young  and  too  tender  mother !    The  Child 
cannot  be  far  off.    Perchance,  He  may  be  en- 
joying His  wonted  delight  in  solitary  prayer, 
somewhere  in  the  desert.    To-morrow  thou 
wilt  forget  what  hath  to-day  caused  thee  so 
much  suffering,  and  we  shall  easily  find  Him, 
perhaps  even  in  the  city." 

The  counsels  of  Joseph  were  wise ;  but  where 
is  the  mother  that  can  overcome  her  emo- 
tions?—whose  heart  does  not  sink  within  her 
at  the  bare  possibiUty  of  danger  to  her  child? 
Mary,  too,  must  have  her  disquietude;  she 
must  be  accustomed  to  the  trials  and  troubles 


-gj!;|.>te*S.-iAf^BH 


214 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


of  a  mother.  It  may  be  that  even  now  a  sad 
foreboding  strikes  her  soul  from  afar,  warning 
her  of  what  she  is  one  day  to  endure. 

And  she  wept  burning  tears.    AU  heaven 
compassionated  her  sorrow     The  Archangels 
of  the  heavenly  court  were  sent  to  wait  upon 
then-   immaculate    Queen.    With    their  own 
hands  they  supported  the  couch  on  which  her 
head  rested.  They  gently  closed  her  moistened 
eyeUds,  and  soothed  her  to  sleep.    That  ra- 
diant, but  silent  court,  motioned  the  earth  to 
silence,  and  the  earth  was  still.    It  dared  not 
disturb  the  sleeper,  even  by  a  breath. 

m. 

All  was  dark  and  silent ;  but,  through  the 
darkness  and  the  silence,  the  lights  of  the 
firmament  rolled  on  and  on  in  their  appointed 
course.  The  Lord  himself  regulates  and 
watches  over  their  motions.  He  folds  and 
re-folds  worlds  at  will,  like  so  many  leaves. 
The  moon  was  about  to  set  behind  the  moun- 
tains, resting  on  the  rocky  ramparts,  and  shed- 


■WMIWWIWilW 


9t.  Joseph. 

e  that  even  now  a  sad 
oul  from  afar,  warning 
lay  to  endure. 
Jig  tears.    All  heaven 
rrow     The  Archangels 
ifere  sent  to  wait  upon 
sen.    "With    their  own 
he  couch  on  which  her 
;ly  closed  her  moistened 
ler  to  sleep.    That  ra- 
motioned  the  earth  to 
was  still.    It  dared  not 
m  by  a  breath. 

n. 

lilent;  but,  through  the 
ence,  the  lights  of  the 
nd  on  in  their  appointed 

himself  regulates  and 
notions.  He  folds  and 
ill,  like  BO  many  leaves. 

to  set  behind  the  moun- 
ocky  ramparts,  and  shed- 


Leobnds  of  St.  Joseph. 


216 


ding  its  drowsy  light  here  and  there.  East- 
ward the  vault  of  heaven  spreads  its  rosy 
curtains  right  and  left.  The  stars  are  pahng ; 
the  fair  fresh  dawn  appears  aU  radiant  at  her 
window,  pouring  forth  her  first  cheering  rays 
resting  lovingly  on  the  brow  and  eyelids  of 
Mary;  and,  Uke  a  twin  sister  from  a  heavenly 
couch,  greets  her  with  a  fond  embrace 

The  Blessed  Virgin,  that  morning  dawn  of 
our  earth,  at  length  opens  her  eyes.  Oh !  how 
fair  and  fresh  was  she !  The  brightness  of  her 
face  was  stUl  clearer  and  more  cheering  even 
than  that  of  the  dawn.  It  must  have  been  a 
delicious  dream  that  charmed  away  her  sor- 
row and  trouble  of  the  evening  previous;  a 
sweet  smUe  plays  around  her  Ups.  ^^ 

«Arise,Joseph!"  she  graciously  said ;  itis 
time  to  set  out.  He  is  in  Jerusalem.  Tester- 
day  I  troubled  thee  with  my  complaints;  I  was 
beside  myself,  and  I  was  wrong,  but  truly  I 

could  not  help  it." 

At  either  extremity  of  the  vast  azure  di»- 
tence  was  the  sun  rising  and  the  moon  setting, 


• 


216  Legends  of  St.  JosEPn. 

the  reflected  light  of  each  meeting  in  mid- 
heaven,  and  forming  a  glorious  arch.    The 
firmament  appeared,  as  it  were,  thrown  open. 
The  stars  retired  into  the  blue  depths.    The 
woods  were  sleeping,  and  the  kneeling  hills 
were  seen  more  and  more  distinctly  in  their 
forms  and  colors,  in  that  matinal  splendor. 
From  time  to  time  was   heard  the  distant 
cheery  caU  of  chanticleer,  awaking  the  slum- 
bering earth  to  renewed  life. 

IV. 

Joseph  and  Mary,  journeying  on,  had  al- 
ready   ascended   the    third   hUl.      The    ass 
moved  briskly  in  the  freshness  of  the  morn- 
ing bearing  his  burden  Ughtly.    The  air  was 
everywhere   instinct   with   life:   birds    were 
ohaiiting  their  matin  song  in  the  solemn  and 
holy  hour.    Like  a  king  from  his  couch  rose 
the  sun,  throwing  aside  his  curtains  of  crim- 
son and  gold.    Louder  and  higher  rose  the 
song  of  the  birds.    The  flowers  gave  forth 
more  freely  their  fragrant  perfumes.     And 


mxntamt 


rammgr— r— ■■""«—«« 


St.  JosESTi. 

each  meeting  in  mid- 
ft  glorious  arch.    The 
»  it  were,  thrown  open, 
the  blue  depths.    The 
and  the  kneeling  hills 
nore  distinctly  in  their 
that  matinal  splendor, 
uras   heard  the  distant 
leer,  awaking  the  slum- 
id  life. 

IV. 

journeying  on,  had  al- 
third   hUl.      The    ass 
freshness  of  the  morn- 
en  lightly.    The  air  was 
with   life:   birds   were 
song  in  the  solemn  and 
ing  from  his  couch  rose 
ide  his  curtains  of  crim- 
der  and  higher  rose  the 
The  flowers  gave  forth 
ragrant  perfumes.     And 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


217 


man,  likewise,  yielded  a  more  fervent  devo- 
tion to  his  Maker  in  that  pure,  fiesh  morning 
hour.  Every  voice  was  raised  in  prayer  for 
the  daily  bread. 

Joseph  and  Mary  sang  by  tui-ns,  joining, 
with  heart  and  voice,  in  that  terrestrial  cho- 
rus of  praise.  They,  at  the  same  time,  hur- 
ried on  towards  the  city.  Now  a  few  pil- 
grims, now  many,  met  them  on  their  way, 
and  all  appeared  to  be  from  Nazareth,  for 
still  the  greeting  was :  "  Hail,  Joseph  1  hail, 

Mary!" 

The  day  was  long ;  but  even  on  the  road 
the  prayerful  soul,  Uke  a  dove  on  the  wing, 
is  not  easily  fatigued.  So  the  holy  couple 
went  on,  by  turns  repeating  the  psalms  that 
came  into  their  mind,  and  thinking  of  their 
holy  ward.  The  different  objects  along  the 
road  were  quickly  left  behind,  and  the  sub- 
urbs of  the  city  were  at  length  gained.  The 
city  gates  are  passed ;  the  noise  of  the  street 
is  already  heard.  Joseph  lays  down  before- 
hand the  plan  of  the  search :  "  Well,  Mary," 

19 


^-^!tW*i6.^fea,i<3&>»A*>''>*''^*^'^-^'*' ""  ■  ■■"■ 


m 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


f 

-i'- 
I' 


said  he,  "we  shall  repair  to  the  house  of 
Zacliavy,  where  we  are  accustomed  to  stay. 
There  we  shall  have  rest  and  refreshment. 
Then  we  shall  go  in  search  of  the  Child.  We 
must  endeavor  to  leave  the  city  this  evening 
before  the  gates  are  closed." 

The  ass,  heated  and  panting,  brays  loudly 
as  they  approach  the  well-known  abode: 
he,  too,  needs  rest.  So  Joseph  first  attends 
to  his  wants,  providing  him  with  hay  and 

oats. 

Mary  has  aheady  knocked  at  the  door: 
"Peace   to   the   house,"  she    sweetly  said; 
"peace  to  my  beloved  in  God!"     "Hosan- 
nah!"  replied  a  voice   from    the    adjoining 
chamber.    It  is  the  aged  Eh;.!!  jeth  who  so 
cordially  returns  her  greeting.    She  quits  her 
work,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  joy,  for  her 
heart  tells  her  who  the  new-comers  are.    In 
her  humility,  she  does  not  dare  to  kiss  Mary's 
cheek;  but,  as  her  servant,  she  kisses  the 
fold  of   her  garment.     Mary  embraces  her 
tenderly.    Joseph  soon  appears,  and  all  three 


Jr.  Joseph. 

)air  to  the  bouse  of 
accustomed  to  stay. 

•est  and  refreshment. 

rch  of  the  Child.  We 
the  city  this  evening 

led." 

panting,  brays  loudly 

5   well -known   abode: 

0  Joseph  first  attends 
ig  him  with  hay  and 

knocked  at  the  door: 
B,"  she    sweetly  said; 

1  in  God!"  "Hosan- 
9  from  the  adjoining 
ged  EU^Lf:  jeth  who  so 
reeting.  She  quits  her 
ling  with  joy,  for  her 
le  new-comers  are.    In 

not  dare  to  kiss  Mary's 

aerrant,  she  kisses  the 

Mary  embraces  her 

n  appears,  and  aU  three 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


219 


rejoice  with  the  purest  joy,  the  joy  which  is 
only  known  to  holy  souls.  Oh,  how  sweet  a 
peace  reigned  there  I 

T. 

Elizabeth  first  bows  down  before  the  Mo- 
ther, and  then  whispers  some  details  dbout 
hor   Son.      Mary's  face,  but   lately   so  sad, 
brightens  with  joy.     She  says,  in  a  low  voice ; 
"  He  is,  then,  in  the  Temple,  or  at  the  house 
of  Veronica  ?    Ever  amongst  tho  learned  He 
is  sure  to  be."    Elizabeth  continued:  "My 
dwelling  is  empty  and  silent ;  my  old  husband 
is,  since  yesterday,  in  Jericho.     My  John  is 
as  a  stranger.    All   my  efforts  are  vain.    I 
know  not  whither  he  goeth.     His  childhood 
is  passed  in  the   desert,  in  fasting  and  in 
prayer.    Oh !  my  dearest  friends,  what  things 
he  speaks  of   the    shame  and  ignominy  of 
I    men!    And  he  is  the  precursor  of  Him  who 
cometh.    Oh!  yes,  He  cometh,  He  cometh, 
that  Saviour  of  the  world ;  a  breath  from  on 
High  seems  to  announce  it ;  we  inhale  it,  like 


220 


Lgoendr  of  St.  Joseph. 


incense,  into  our  bosoms.  The  Lonl,  the  Re- 
deemer, is  even  now  almost  in  oiir  midst. 
(Mary  greedily  drank  in  these  words.)  Jchus, 
thy  JoHUH,  is,  indeed,  my  Lord.  The  hard- 
ened Souls  of  the  Pharisees  are  already  soft- 
ened, and  begin  to  feel  compunction.  Yea, 
they  will  give  glory  to  the  Almighty,  although, 
as  yet,  Jesus  appeareth  but  as  an  unfledged 

bird." 

Mary  listened  attentively  and  with  mo- 
therly interest.  Her  heart  and  soul  were 
moved.  She  raised  her  eyes  and  her  hands, 
and,  falling  on  her  knees,  murmured  these 
words  of  grace :  "  My  soul  doth  magnify  the 
Lord.  My  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God,  my 
Saviour.  He  hath  regarded  the  lowliness  of 
His  handmaiden.  Behold,  from  henceforth, 
all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed." 

EUzabeth  and  Joseph,  seraph-like,  joined  in 
these  praises  with  heart  and  voice  :  "  He  that 
is  mighty  hath  done  great  things.  His  mercy 
is  from  generation  to  generation  unto  them 
that  fear  Him.     He  hath  showed  strength 


St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  Bi.  Josura. 


221 


18.  The  Loril,  the  Re- 
almost  in  oiir  inidHt. 
a  these  words.)  Jchus, 
my  Lord.  The  hnrd- 
risecs  are  already  soft- 
lel  compunction.  Yea, 
the  Ahnighty,  although, 
tb  but  as  an  unfledged 

intively   and  with    mo- 
heuit  and    soul  were 
er  eyes  and  her  hands, 
cnees,   murmured  these 
'  soul  doth  magnify  the 
b  rejoiced  in  God,  my 
garded  the  lowliness  of 
ahold,  from  henceforth, 
call  me  blessed." 
)h,  seraph-like,  joined  in 
krt  and  voice  :  "  He  that 
Teat  things.    His  mercy 
>  generation  unto   them 
hath  showed  strength 


with  His  arm ;  He  hath  scattered  the  proud 
in  the  imagination  of  their  heart.  He  hath 
put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seat,  and 
hath  exalted  the  humble." 

The  triple  harmony  resounded  like  the 
music  of  a  lyre,  bringing  back  again  the  an- 
cient and  splendid  prophecies  of  Jeremiah 
and  Ezekiel. 

The  sun  had  well  nigh  reached  his  meri- 
dian height.  The  great  square  of  the  city 
was  full  of  people  discoursing  together.  The 
motley  crowd  rolled  away  noiselessly,  hither 
and  thither,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  when 
tossed  by  the  wind.  The  poor  went  to  their 
daily  toil,  the  idle  to  their  frivolous  amuse- 
ments.   Each  one  spoke  of  what  concerned 

himself. 

Now  was  heard  one  thing,  now  another; 
now  a  joyous  word,  now  a  sad  one,  accord- 
ing to  the  mood  of  the  several  speakers: 
"To-day   our   governor    gives   his    festival. 


222 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


They,  say  it  will  be  more  splendid  even  than 
in  Borne." 

A  building  of  vast  proportions,  and  of  won- 
drous beauty,  strikes  the  eye,  astonishing  all 
strangers  by  its  magnificent  colonnades.     It 
is  the  Temple,  the  House  of  God ;  it  is  the 
thought  of  Solomon  the  Wise  converted  into 
stone,  and  shining  out  for  generations.    On  a 
nearer  view,  the  majestic  proportions  of  the 
great  edifice  are  lost  sight  of  in  the  chiselled 
leaves  and  flowers,  intertwming,  like  a  trans- 
parent texture,  light  as  the  wind,  like  unto 
the  veil  of  some  chaste  daughter  of  kings. 
All  along  the  steps  and  in  the   porch  are 
seen  pillars,  flowers,  and  divers  sweet-smelling 
herbs.    The  stalls  and  booths  are  full  of  toys 
and  dainties. 

The  air  is  mild.  Children  and  young  peo- 
ple linger  around,  feasting  their  eyes  on  the 
tempting  wares,  the  venders  of  which  rejoice 
in  the  hope  of  gain.  Youth,  ah!  youth  re- 
joices even  now ;  it  hovers,  like  a  swarm  of 
bees  around  its  hive,  and,  humming  its  sense- 


p 


}  OF  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


223 


3  more  splendid  even  than 

st  proportions,  and  of  won- 
[es  the  eye,  astonishing  all 
lagnificent  colonnades.  It 
e  House  of  God;  it  is  the 
on  the  Wise  converted  into 

out  for  generations.  On  a 
majestic  proportions  of  the 
ost  sight  of  in  the  chiselled 
8,  intertwining,  like  a  trans- 
ght  as  the  wind,  like  unto 

chaste  daughter  of  kings, 
eps  and  in  the  porch  are 
rs,  and  divers  sweet-smelling 
3  and  booths  are  full  of  toys 

.  Children  and  young  peo- 
l,  feasting  their  eyes  on  the 
he  venders  of  which  rejoice 
ain.  Youth,  ah!  youth  re- 
;  it  hovers,  like  a  swarm  of 
live,  and,  humming  its  sense- 


less song,  drowns  with  its  voice  the  glad  tid- 
ings that  run  from  mouth  to  mouth  amongst 

the  people. 

Amongst  the  Doctors  a  Child  is  found ;  and 
the  Doctors  themselves"  are  amazed  at  His 
knowledge.    He  discourses  of  God  with  more 
zeal  and  more  confidence  than  ever  did  the 
Masters  themselves,   and  a  thousand  times 
better  than  any  amongst  them.     A  couple 
pass  unnoticed,  and  make  their  way  through 
the  crowd  m  the  vestibule.    One  is  an  aged 
man,  with  a  snowy  beard,  tall  in  stature,  and 
of  grave  demeanor.    By  his  side  is  a  woman 
of  the  rarest  beauty,  of  medium  size,  modest, 
deUcate,  virginal.     Now  and  then,  beneath 
the  folds  of  her  veil,  her  features  and  her 
dove-Uke  eyes  are  caught  sight  of.    It  is  Jo- 
seph and  Mary. 

vn. 

Like  the  tinkhng  of  a  small  silver  bell  was 
heard  the  voice  of  a  child,  echoing  faint  but 
clear  beneath  those   gigantic  white    arches. 


224 


Lboends  op  St.  Joseph. 


This   dove-like    voice,    sweet    and   gracious, 
makes  itself  heard  by  that  other  dove,  the 
soul,  speaking  to  it  of  merciful  hopes.    Anx- 
ious that  their  Heavenly  Guest  should  not  be 
disturbed,  people  make  frequent  signs  to  each 
other  to  keep  silence.    Hearts  frozen  by  old 
hatreds  are  melted  by  the  rays  of  this  new 
gi-ace-giving  sun.    Here  and   there    contrite 
souls  fall  on  thek  knees.    A  deep  and  solemn 
silence  reigns.    On  the  women's  side,  the  Vir- 
gin, full  of  grace,  with  tearful  eyes  and  light 
step,  advances  farther  into  the  Temple. 

Before  the  Ark,  in  which  are  kept  the  Ten 
Commandments,  flickers  a  cheermg  flame,  by 
the  rays  of  the  sun  made  like  to  a  peacock's 
tail.   There  the  amazed  Doctors  are  seated,  in 
a  semi-circle.     On  a  carpeted  elevation  stands 
the  Child,  clad  in  a  blue  tunic.    He  speaks 
slowly;  pauses  from  time  to  time;  at  every 
pause  the  crowd  breaks  forth  into  loud  accla- 
mations ;  aU  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  face  of  the 
Child,  where  the  shade  of  thought  seems  to 
rest  Uke  a  light  cloud,  and  many  an  admiring 


toiB^V^. 


St.  Joseph. 

Hweet  and  gracious, 
'  that  other  dove,  the 
merciful  hopes.  Anx- 
ly  Guest  should  not  be 

frequent  signs  to  each 

Hearts  frozen  by  old 
r  the  rays  of  this  new 
re  and  there  contrite 
8.  A  deep  and  solemn 
)  women's  side,  the  Vir- 

tearful  eyes  and  light 
into  the  Temple, 
yhich  are  kept  the  Ten 
rs  a  cheering  flame,  by 
aade  like  to  a  peacock's 
d  Doctors  are  seated,  in 
arpeted  elevation  stands 
blue  tunic.    He  speaks 
time  to  time;  at  every 
ks  forth  into  loud  accla- 
fixed  on  the  face  of  the 
de  of  thought  seems  to 
I,  and  many  an  admiring 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


225 


glance  is  cast  on  His  beautiful  fair  hair,  falling 
gracefully  over  His  shoulders. 

At  length,  making  a  sign  with  His  hand,  He 
resumes;  but  what  language  can  convey  His 
words?  Oh!  all  Eternity  cannot  embrace 
their  import!  "In  the  beginning,"  said  He, 
"was  the  Word.  The  Word  was  with  God, 
and  the  Word  was  God."  He  continued,  with 
ft  stronger  voice:  "This  Word  was  the  light 
and  the  life  ;  and  this  Word  was  made  flesh. 
But  men  have  not  known  the  Incarnate." 

Thus  spoke  He,  prodigy  after  prodigy,  not 
in  the  dignity  of  a  doctor  commenting  on 
Scripture,  but  in  the  plenitude  of  power  from 
on  High,  as  Master  and  as  Lord,  before  whom, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  heaven  and  earth 
must  fall  in  adoration.    And  to  make  Himself 
more  intelligible  to  the  simple.  He  unfolded  a 
luminous  and  ti'ansparent  tissue  of  parables, 
which,  like  the  surface  of  water,  veil  au  the 
secret  places  of  our  soul.    Truly  it  is  seen  by 
the  expressive  gestures  of  tiie  multitude  that 
the  truth  is  sinking  deep  into  their  minds. 


226 


Legends  of  St.  Jobepe. 


The  old  Doctors  rack  their  brains  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  these  heaven-breathing  para- 
bles :  they  discuss  amongst  themselves.  Each 
one  is  moved  according  to  the  humility  with 
which  he  is  penetrated,  or  the  pride  of  priestly 
learning  that  puflfs  him  up.  "  Let  us  try  if  we 
cannot  argue  him  down  "  say  they.  But  Jesus 
ends  soon  with  a  prayer,  which  He  oflfers  up 
alike  for  the  learned  and  the  unlearned. 

The  Child,  leaving  His  place,  had  only  a 
sweet  smile  on  His  Ups.  Suddenly  He  meets 
His  Mother's  anxious  eye  amongst  the  crowd, 
and,  like  a  fish  to  the  line,'He  bounds  towards 
her.  Joseph,  in  heart,  blamed  Him  not ;  but 
the  Mother,  true  to  her  Mother's  nature,  said 
to  Him:  "Why  hast  Thou  done  so  to  us? 
We  have  sought  Thee,  sorrowing." 

"  Mother,  beloved  Mother,  soul  of  my  soul  I 
have  I  not  made  known  to  thine  that  I  must 
look  after  the  business  of  my  Father?  " 

This  reason  was  sufficient  for  the  fond 
Mother. 


Jt.  J08EPE. 

their  brains  to  explain 
saven-breathing  para- 
gst  themselves.    Each 
;  to  the  humility  with 
)r  the  pride  of  priestly 
ap.    "  Let  us  try  if  we 
"  say  they.  But  Jesus 
r,  which  He  oflfers  up 
I  the  unlearned. 
lis  place,  had  only  a 
Suddenly  He  meets 
ire  amongst  the  crowd, 
ae.  He  bounds  towards 
blamed  Him  not ;  but 
■  Mother's  nature,  said 
Thou  done  so  to  us? 
sorrowing." 

other,  soul  of  my  soul  I 
n  to  thine  that  I  must 
of  my  Father?" 
uffioieut   for  the   foud 


Lboends  of  St.  Joseph. 


227 


VIII. 

Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph  went  forth  from 
the  Temple  hand  in  hand :  the  rumor  followed 
them  everywhere.    Young  and  old  whispered : 
"  Lo !  here  He  comes  1    Tea,  it  is  He !    It  is 
the  Prophet  who  cometh  from  the  Lord,  His 
wonderful  Preacher!"    Stirred  by  the  spiri- 
tual teaching  they  had  just  heard,  all  those  of 
the  crowd  who  were  humble  in  heart  kissed 
the  folds  of  the  Son's  and  the  Mother's  gar- 
ments.   The  virgins  offered  fragrant  flowers. 
Jesus  accepted  and  saluted  His  people  with  a 
motion  of  His  hand.    Li  the  far-stretching 
shadow  of   the  tower,  and  near  the  steps, 
a  group  of  men  was  continually  increasing. 
They  kept  asking  each  other:  "Who  or  what 
is  He?"    "Whence  cometh  He?"    "Whatl 
that  Child  from  the  neighborhood  of  Naza- 
reth?   Impossible!    Who    ever   heard  of  a 
prophet  appearing  in  Nazareth?    Yea,  yea, 
Simeon,— yea,  Nathaniel!  From  the  tax-office 
and  fiom  your  fishing-barks  many  vfiU  follow 


11 


Legends  of  St.  Jostjph. 


Him,"  said  Levi,  Csesar's  publican.    The  grain 
seemed  to  take  root  in  good  soil. 

Jesus,  His  Mother,  and  their  guardian,  as 
yet  in  sight,  gradually  disappeared,  as  does 
the  bow  in  the  clouds.    All  was  silent  and 
vacant  where  lately  was  the  bustling  crowd. 
The  old  betook  themselves  to  the  windows  of 
their  houses,  for  it  was  the  day  of  an  imperial 
festival.    The  young  seemed  to  be  attracted 
outside  the  city.    Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph 
walked  slowly  towards  the  dwelling  of  Eliza- 
beth.    They  were  already  approaching  her 
cottage,  distinguished  by  its  whiteness ;  from 
its  chimney  a  column  of  smoke  was  ascending. 
The  court  in  front  was  covered  with  fresh 
green   sward;  the   paths  were  smooth  and 
clean;  and  the  vestibule  matted.    The  aged 
Elizabeth,  gracious  hostess  that  she  was,  stood 
at   the    door,  surrounded   by  her   kinsfolk, 
awaiting  her  guests. 

Jesus,  as  soon  as  He  caught  sight  of  them, 
joyfully  saluted  EUzabeth,  together  with  Vero- 
nica, Martha,  and, Salome.    Having  reached 


)P  St.  Jostjph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


229 


lar's  publican.    The  grain 
n  good  soil. 

t,  and  their  guardian,  as 
,lly  disappeared,  as  does 
ids.    All  was  silent  and 
was  the  bustling  crowd, 
mselves  to  tlie  windows  of 
as  the  day  of  an  imperial 
;  seemed  to  be  attracted 
Fesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph 
ds  the  dwelling  of  Eliza- 
already  approaching  her 
d  by  its  whiteness;  from 
a  of  smoke  was  ascending, 
was  covered  with  fresh 
paths  were  smooth  and 
tibule  matted.    The  aged 
lostess  that  she  was,  stood 
)unded   by  her   kinsfolk, 

He  caught  sight  of  them, 
iabeth,  together  with  Vero- 
Salome.    Having  reached 


the  door,  He  tenderly  embraces  His  young 
relatives.    He  is  caressed  by  all  as  a  fair  and 
winning  child;  His  Mother,  too,  is  warmly  and 
kindly  gieeted,  with  tlie  honor  due  to  her  ex- 
alted dignity.     The  venerable  Joseph  likewise 
receives  his  share  of  honor.     The  guests  at 
length  enter  the  house,  the  interior  of  which 
is  handsomely  and  tastefully  adorned.     The 
table  is  already  set,  and  abundantly  furnished 
with    refreshments.      The    snow-white    Unen 
bears  witness  to  the  excellent  housewifery  of 
Elizabeth.    The  sunlight  streaming  in  through 
several  windows,  gild  the  modest  furniture. 
Freshness,  grace,  beauty,  and  gayety  reign  in 
the  favored  dwelling :  flowers  are  there  in  pro- 
fusion.    The  Child  Jesus   likes  the  flowers 
much :  He  enjoys  the  sweetness  of  their  per- 
fume ;  the  variety  of  their  colors  pleases  Him. 
So  He  chooses  some  of  the  loveliest,  wreathes 
a  virginal  crown,  and  whispering  to  His  Mo- 
ther: "Thou  Shalt  be  well  crowned,"  He  places 
it  on  her  brow.    A  blush,  like  the  first  faint 
crimson  of  the  dawn,  suffuses  the  fair  face  of 


Lbqends  of  St.  JoaBPH. 


Mary,  hearing  these  words,  and  receiving  the 
caresses  of  her  Ohild. 


i  ^    * 


I  ; 


IX. 

Crowned  thus,  as  Queen  and  Mother,  she 
takes  the  first  place  at  table,  beside  her  Son 
and  her  beloved.  The  other  guests  remam 
standing,  lower  down,  waiting  till  the  gifts  of 
God  are  blessed  by  the  aged  Joseph.  Oh!  the 
age  and  sanctity  of  a  man  find  as  much  favor 
on  High  as  priesthood.  Joseph,  therefore,  re- 
peated the  usual  prayer  for  a  blessing  on  the 
gifts.  Jesus,  in  the  capacity  of  Sacrificer,  broke 
the  bread  and  blessed  it ;  and  Veronica  hand- 
ed it  round  to  the  guests.  The  aged  Elizabeth 
superintended  all,  and  saw  that  each  of  her 
guests  was  duly  cared  for. 

The  meats  were  simple,  but  well  seasoned 
and  palatable.  It  must  be  understood  that 
Jesus  prohibited  His  own  kinsfolk  from  ab- 
staining from  flesh,  wishmg  that  all  should 
rejoice  while  He  was  on  earth.  The  table 
abounded  with  good  things :  a  lamb,  pigeons. 


II 


OF  St.  Jo'aEPU. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


231 


words,  and  receiving  the 
I. 

IX. 

,  Queen  and  Mother,  she 
B  at  table,  beside  her  Son 
The  other  guests  remain 
n,  waiting  till  the  gifts  of 
the  aged  Joseph.  Oh !  the 
a  man  find  as  much  favor 
od.  Joseph,  therefore,  re- 
•ayer  for  a  blessing  on  the 
sapacity  of  Sacrificer,  broke 
,ed  it ;  and  Veronica  hand- 
uests.  The  aged  Elizabeth 
Emd  saw  that  each  of  her 
ed  for. 

simple,  but  well  seasoned 
must  be  understood  that 
lis  own  kinsfolk  from  ab- 
1,  wishing  that  all  should 
was  on  earth.  The  table 
>d  things :  a  lamb,  pigeons. 


dried  fruits.  There  was  also  a  little  wine  for 
refreshment;  but  the  guests  took  only  just 
what  nourishment  the  body  required,  in  order 
to  obey  the  dictates  of  the  soul. 

Another  festival  engaged  their  attention; 
yes,  another,  and  it  was  not  of  this  world. 
All  the  guests  listened  intently  to  the  words 
of  the  Child,  and  reUshed  them  as  the  celestial 
bread — as  food  that  could  satisfy  the  hunger 
of  their  souls  for  all  eternity.  Thus  did  Jesus 
scatter  seed  abundantly  in  good  soil.  With  a 
prophetic  eye  He  glanced  through  the  abyss 
of  time,  and  in  a  whisper  questioned  Martha 
on  the  chalice. 

He  then  spoke  of  the  holy  mysteries  of  that 
chalice,  saying  that  He  was  given  to  men  to 
make  the  offering,  and  that  He  would  still 
make  it  according  to  the  New  Law.  He  also 
gave  some  explanations  as  to  Melchisedeck : 
"  It  was  the  Angel  of  the  Lord,  who,  in  old 
times,  went  about  the  earth,  under  a  human 
form,  everywhere  teaching  men  to  praise  and 
glorify  God.    Little  by  little  the  nations  have 


ii^ 


282 


Leqends  of  St.  Jo8epr. 


i 
,  I- 
,  1 


turned  away  from  the  truth :  they  soon  wor- 
ship the  golden  calf.  Nevertheless,  some  drops 
of  this  living  water  yet  remain  here  and  there, 
at  times  purer  than  that  of  the  Temple.  These 
drops  shall  grow  still  larger,  and  spread  into 
a  living  spring,  for  the  Son  of  God  takes  the 
human  form,  and  is  made  flesh." 

The  face  of  the  Child,  as  the  Emmanuel  so 
long  desired,  beamed  with  all  its  splendor ; 
scarce  could  mortal  eye  endure  the  sight.  So, 
with  heads  bowed  low,  they  chanted :  "  Ho- 
sannah  I  glory !  glory !  glory  to  God  through- 
out all  eternity ! "  Their  hearts  were  ravished 
with  a  mysterious  wonder.  The  miracles  they 
saw  before  them  appeared  like  a  dream. 
Passing  fair  was  that  vision  of  Paradise. 

Smiling,  then,  as  a  beloved  and  loving 
child,  Jesus  changes  His  divine  countenance 
into  that  of  a  mere  mortal.  He  admonishes 
and  then  consoles  His  female  hearers,  but 
does  not  forbid  them  innocent  joys.  At 
length,  Joseph  announces  the  hour  of  depart- 
ure ;  but  the  hosts,  full  of  affection  for  their 


p  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


B  fcruth :  they  soon  wor- 
(^evertheless,  some  drops 
t  remain  here  nud  there, 
lat  of  the  Temple.  These 

larger,  nud  spread  into 
e  Son  of  God  takes  the 
lade  flesh." 

ild,  as  the  Emmanuel  so 
I  with  all  its  splendor ; 
ye  endure  the  sight.  So, 
w,  they  chanted :  "  Ho- 

!  glory  to  God  through- 
iieir  hearts  were  ravished 
nder.  The  miracles  they 
ppeared  like  a  dream, 
vision  of  Paradise. 

a   beloved    and   loving 

His  divine  countenance 
mortal.  He  admonishes 
Sis  female  hearers,  but 
em  innocent  joys.  At 
inces  the  hour  of  depart- 
Full  of  affection  for  their 


visitors,  will  not  let  them  go  without  accom- 
panying them  to  the  high  road. 


The  city  breaks  forth  into  rejoicing.  Terp- 
sichore everywhere  proclaims  the  Emperor's 
festival.  A  joyous  tumult  reigns  amongst 
the  richly -ottired,  many-colored  crowd.  The 
arras  and  armor  of  the  Boman  soldiery  glit- 
tered wherever  the  eye  could  reach.  A 
swarm  of  profligate,  effeminate-looking  patri- 
cians strut  along  in  the  lion  skins  they  wear 
on  their  shoulders.  Pagans  and  Jewish  lords, 
covered  with  gold  and  pearls,  follow,  step  by 
step,  on  horseback,  in  full  state.  Bread  and 
fine  sights  are  gratuitously  and  in  profusion 
given  to  the  people.  Dust  and  noise  there 
are  in  abundance. 

The  Jupiter  of  Bome  is  known  to  be  lavish 
of  his  gifts.    Joy,  in  a  word ;  and  what  joy  I 

.  .  .  But  the  soul!  Ohl  the  soul  knows  not 
whether  it  exists.  The  shade  of  Tiberius  is 
still  abroad  on  the  earth :  that  dark  phantom, 


ll 


284 


Leobmds  ov  St.  Jobbph. 


crowned  with  imperial  laurels,  soonrges  un- 
ceasingly with  both  hands:  while  one  rains 
rods,  from  the  other  falls  the  axe.    Tlie  gov- 
)  I  ernor,  that  true  Roman  courtier  of  that  day, 

that  monster  of  cruelty,  is  known  as  Publius. 
Ask  twenty  years  hence,  and  no  one  will  bo 
able  to  tell  you  what  was  the  great  man's 
name. 

The  divine  group,  pressed  on  its  way  by 
the  crowd,  glides  timidly  hither  and  thither, 
like  birds  in  a  storm.  They  try  to  get  away. 
They  hear  only  the  noise  of  the  pagan  fes- 
tival, surging  louder  and  louder  amongst  the 
crowd.  One  relates  the  exploits  of  a  gladiator : 
"  With  one  blow  of  his  fist  he  felled  a  bull." 
"And  killed  him?"  "Yea,  he  killed  him;" 
and  the  answer  was  repeated  on  every  side. 
"What  gigantic  strength  have ••  these  people 
from  the  Euxine!"  And  no  one  deigns  to 
oast  a  look  on  the  Child  to  whom  all  nations 
are  subject,  and  the  footstool  of  whose  glory 
is  the  whole  earth. 
Yonder   the  Kedron  winds   along,  in   its 


f  St.  Josspr. 


Leo'icnds  of  8t.  Joseph. 


286 


%\  laurels,  scourges  un- 
hands: while  one  rains 
falls  the  axe.  Tlie  gov- 
an  courtier  of  that  day, 
ty,  is  known  as  Publius. 
nee,  and  no  one  will  bo 
lat  was  the  great  man's 

pressed  on  its  way  by 
lidly  hither  and  thither, 
They  try  to  get  away, 
noise  of  the  pagan  fes- 
and  louder  amongst  the 
le  exploits  of  a  gladiator: 
lis  fist  he  felled  a  bull." 
"  Yea,  he  killed  him ;" 

repeated  on  every  side, 
ngth  have --these  people 

And  no  one  deigns  to 
hild  to  whom  all  nations 

footstool  of  whose  glory 

■on  winds   along,  in   its 


brightness,  through  the  meadows;  nearer,  a 
smooth  pond  lies,  glittering  in  the  Hunlight. 
White  flocks  are  grazmg  on  its  banks,  and 
many  prattling  children  are  there  washing 
their  lambs.  Sportive  mfiidens  and  gay  young 
brides  cast  their  garlands  into  the  bright 
water,  singiug  glad  songs  the  while.  Laugh- 
ing and  chatting,  they  run  hither  and  thither, 
chasing  each  other  in  girlish  glee. 

XI. 

Jesus  proposes  to  halt  here,  for,  soon,  the 
friends  will  have  to  part  company,  and  the 
travellers  proceed    alone  on    their    journey. 
The  aspect  of  the  place  pleases  Him,  for  all 
around  breathes  of    the  country.     Scarcely 
are  the    holy  group  seated    on    the  sward, 
when,  a  boy  here,  a  girl  there,  is  seen  to  ap- 
proach, like  the  sparrows,  beginning  with  the 
boldest,  one  following  the  other;  and  soon 
there  may  bo  seen  a  crowd  of  children,  who, 
ever  easily  put  to  flight,  now  stand  motionless 
around.    Jesus  caresses  them  with  His  hands. 


li^ 


286 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


lb 


!  t 


Surprise  is  painted  on  every  face.  Jesus 
seems  to  them  an  old  acquaintance;  some- 
where, not  long  since,  they  thought  they  had 
fluttered  with  Him  over  flowers. 

A  little  farther  away,  a  young  servant-maid 
was  trying  in  vain  to  soothe  the  child  she  car- 
ried in  her  arms;    do  what  she  would,  she 
could  not  succeed.     "  Be  silent,  oh !  be  silent, 
my  little  Stephen,"  she  kept  repeating;  but 
the  child  would  not  be  pacified.     Suddenly 
the  Uttle  hand  of  Jesus  is  laid  on  its  head. 
Stephen  stretches  his  arms  towards  Him ;  he 
twines  his  tiny  fingers  in  His  waving  hair,  and 
clings  to  His  neck,  like  a  bird  under  its  moth- 
er's wings.    Jesus  kisses  the  little  one  ten- 
derly.   And  it  is  for  that  kiss— yea,  even  for 
that  kiss— that  Stephen  shall  one  day  shed 
his  blood,  and  be  the  first  to  open  the  way 
for  the  martyrs. 

This  scene  of  marvellous  love  touched  all 
beholders.  The  aged  friends  of  the  travellers 
took  their  leave  of  them.  And  Joseph's  ass 
trotted  briskly  on.     Jesus  and  Mary  wew 


s  OF  St.  Joseph. 


LEOEin)s  OF  St.  Joseph. 


237 


,ed  on  every  face.  Jesus 
,n  old  acquaintance ;  some- 
ince,  they  thought  they  had 
1  over  flowers. 

away,  a  young  servant-maid 
to  soothe  the  child  she  car- 
;  do  what  she  would,  she 
.  "  Be  silent,  oh !  be  silent, 
1,"  she  kept  repeating;  but 
not  be  pacified.  Suddenly 
>f  Jesus  is  laid  on  its  head. 
I  his  arms  towards  Him ;  he 
igers  in  His  waving  hair,  and 
i,  like  a  bu-d  under  its  moth- 
is  kisses  the  little  one  ten- 
1  for  that  kiss — ^yea,  even  for 
Stephen  shall  one  day  shed 
e  the  first  to  open  the  way 

marvellous  love  touched  all 

aged  friends  of  the  travellers 

of  them.    And  Joseph's  ass 

on.     Jesus  and  Mary  were 


mounted  together  on  another.    They  waved 
a  parting  salute  to  the  kind  friends  they  left 
behind,  and  set  forward  on  the  road  to  Gali- 
lee.   Jesus  cast  His  eyes  far  along  the  road, 
as  a  messenger  of  glad  tidmgs.     His  thoughts 
were  in    heaven   above.    All  at  once,  as  if 
some  one  had  pulled  Him  by  a  fold  of  His 
garment,  He  turned  His  animated  eyes  to  the 
right.     There  lies  the  silent  Garden  of  Olives, 
the  gloomy  Golgotha !    Thence  it  is  that  the 
world's  redemption  by  the  cross  shall  come. 
At  the  idea  of  the  cross,  Jesus  bows  humbly 
before  the  will  of  His  Father.    His  tears,  like 
dew,  moisten  the  earth.    But  soon,  with  His 
usual  calmness,  He  raises  His  head  heaven- 
ward.   In   the    mirror   of    His   eyes  many 
thoughts  are  reflected. 

xn. 

"Mother,"  He  said,  "in  an  evil  manner  do 
men  spend  the  days  of  their  pilgrimage  here 
below.  They  surround  themselves  with  trou- 
ble and  with  weariness ;  and  yet  muracles  are 


1^ 


288 


Legends  of  St.  Jobsph. 


II 


!    ;" 


■  i 


: 


strewn  all  along  their  way,  but  they  deign  not 
to  cast  a  look  upon  them.    They  will  not  con- 
sider who  it  is  that  clothes  this  tree  with  ver- 
dure ;  who  it  is  that  hath  given  the  birds  their 
many-colored  plumage,  and  provideth  for  them 
food.    Verily,  these  sportive  birds  sow  not, 
neither  do  they  reap.    Behold,  fairest  Mother, 
the  Hly,  white  as  the  snow !     With  what  ma- 
jesty it  raiseth  its  head,  even  from  the  vile 
dust  of  the  earth,  out  of  which  it  groweth ! 
Neither  Solomon  in  all   his  glory,  nor  the 
spouse  of  any  king,  hath  been  so  splendidly 
adorned.     And  yet  it  is  but  a  flower;  fair 
though  it  be  to  look  upon,  it  is  only  perishable 
dust.    Man  alone,  by  his  soul  or  spirit,  weighs 
something  in  the  balance  before  the  Divine 
Spirit.    He  alone  is  surrounded  by  a  very 
special  care  and  protection.    But  he  himself 
extinguishes  the  spark  of  light  within  him. 
He  allows  his  reason  and  his  heart  to  be  car- 
ried away  by  his  will.    By  his  unbridled  wick- 
edness he  heaps  up,  from  day  to  day,  sin  on 
sin,  and  liveth  in  the  darkness  of  his  evil  ways. 


..^ 


iiMiiilrfiiWi 


St.  Jossph. 


Leoends  op  St.  Joseph 


239 


way,  but  they  deign  not 
em.  They  will  not  con- 
othes  this  tree  with  ver- 
ath  given  the  birds  their 
i,  and  provideth  for  them 
gportive  birds  sow  not, 

Behold,  fairest  Mother, 

show !  With  what  ma- 
lead,  even  from  the  vile 
at  of  which  it  groweth! 

all  his  glory,  nor  the 
hath  been  so  splendidly 
it  is  but  a  flower;  fair 
ipon,  it  is  only  perishable 

his  soul  or  spirit,  weighs 
ilance  before  the  Divine 
I  surrounded  by  a  very 
itection.  But  he  himself 
xrk  of  light  within  him. 

and  his  heart  to  be  car- 
.  By  his  unbridled  wick- 
,  from  day  to  day,  sin  on 
darkness  of  his  evil  ways. 


Hence  it  is  that  the  Heavenly  Father  hath 
cast  him  off  for  ever.  Nevertheless,  there  are 
yet  promises ;  there  are  all-powerful  remedies : 
the  blood  of  the  Innocent  One."  His  voice  was 
choked  with  sobs.    A  long  silence  followed. 

Jesus  began  anew :  "  Mother,  thou  art  a  star 
amongst  the  elect ;  surrounded  by  the  court  of 
ipy  angels,  thou  shalt  shed  light  upon  this 
world,  as  the  sole  mediatrix  of  divine  grace. 
The  depths  shall  rejoice  vfiih.  the  rays  of  thy 

glory." 

Long  they  remained  clasped  in  a  sweet  but 
mute  embrace.  The  prophetic  words  are  again 
heard.  The  holy  M..-.;  ?  gathers  them  in  with 
delight,  and  hides   '  ^  ^-ep  down  in  her 

heart.    The  long  jour.  ',  t ;  emed  to  her  but  as 
a  moment's  length. 

The  sun  was  now  declining,  and  several 
leagues  were  already  traversed.  An  olive 
grove  is  seen  not  far  off,  with  a  clear  stieam 
runmng  close  by ;  and  there  the  Holy  Family 
stop  for  the  night.  The  sun  is  setting  behmd 
crimson  clouds,  but  he  yet  gUds  Mount  Thabor 


240 


Legends  of  St.  JosEi-H. 


and  the  neighboring  hill- tops  with  his  roseate 
beams.  The  castle  of  Magdala  is  seen,  with 
added  splendor,  in  that  flood  of  fiery  light 
which  overspreads  the  landscape,  its  bright 
hues  made  richer  still  by  the  gorgeous  crimson 
of  the  far-famed  vines  of  the  country.  Eising 
from  amid  those  clustering  vines  a  lofty  palm- 
tree  casts  its  shadow  far  down  athwart  the 
plain,  and  from  forth  their  sheltering  leaves 
the  young  Samaritan  girl  slowly  and  timidly 
moves  away  with  her  lamb ;  she  dares  not  cast 
a  look  behind,  for  she  is  accursed  in  Israel. 
An  old,  old  feud,  dating  from  the  times  of  the 
Babylonish  captivity,  but  existing  yet  in  all 
its  ancient  strength  and  bitterness  1 

Jesus  followed  the  fugitive  with  His  eyes. 
He  pondered  deeply  in  His  heart.  At  length 
He  opens  His  mouth,  and  proclaims  that  love 
of  the  new  law,  that  love  abounding  in  the 
purest  delight,  which,  from  the  highest  heaven, 
is  to  descend  as  a  magic  chain  to  our  clouded 
earth,  and  bind  together  all  mankind,  recon- 
ciled with  Qod,  its  Creator. 


St.  JosEi-H. 

ill- tops  with  hia  roseate 
Mogdala  is  seen,  with 
tat  flood  of  fiery  light 
e  landscape,  its  bright 
oy  the  gorgeous  crimson 
of  the  country.    Eising 
iring  vines  a  lofty  palm- 
far  down  athwart  the 
their  sheltering  leaves 
girl  slowly  and  timidly 
amb ;  she  dares  not  cast 
e  is  accursed  in  Israel, 
ig  from  the  times  of  the 
but  existing  yet  in  all 
d  bitterness  1 
fugitive  with  His  eyes, 
n  His  heart.    At  length 
and  proclaims  that  love 
love  abounding  in  the 
[rom  the  highest  heaven, 
^c  chain  to  our  clouded 
;her  all  mankind,  recon- 
sator. 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


241 


"Ah!  yonder  Samaritan,"  said  He,  "is  poor 
Humanity,  burning  inwardly  from  father  to 
son,  and  suflfering  under  the  weight  of  that 
ancient  condemnation.  But  it  shall  arise 
again ;  yea,  it  shall  arise  in  love,  in  faith,  in 
hope,  for  the  time  is  at  hand  when  the  new 
covenant  shall  embrace  all  eternity.". 

The  silver-haired  guardian  of  Jesus,  revived 
by  the  dews  of  grace  falling  from  the  divine 
lips  of  his  foster-Son,  listened  with  delight, 
moved  even  to  tears.  Filled  with  compunc- 
tion, he  bows  his  head  on  his  knees ;  Jesus, 
in  a  low  voice,  repeats  to  him  the  heavenly 
promise:  "Besting  on  Me  thou  shalt  be  the 
guardian  of  souls,  and  in  thy  name  I  will  mul- 
tiply thee  in  the  new  covenant." 

The  night  came  on,  with  its  shades  and  its 
silence.  Here  and  there  a  star  was  seen  in 
the  blue  expanse  of  heaven.  The  Holy  Fam- 
ily fall  on  their  knees,  and  Jesus  begins  in  a 
clear,  sweet  voice :  "  Our  Father,  who  art  in 
Heaven,  ..."  He  prayed  for  His  beloved, 
and  for  Himself.    When,  at  length,  the  Holy 

21 


T4" 


242 


Leoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Family  slept,  bright  peaceful  dreams  hovered 
around,  reflecting  their  mysteries.  The  stars 
come  out  by  thousands.  The  guardian  sun 
and  the  guardian  moon  are  absent,  keeping 
their  watch  far  away  in  another  hemisphere. 
The  whole  firmament,  rolling  on  in  its  un- 
ending motion,  appears  to  sing  in  ceaseless 
harmony :  "  Blessed  for  ever  be  Thou,  O  Son 
ofManI" 


f  1: 

•  I 
■  t 


mvmnwK  A'[  mMi.i|i|MiwwPI!glWBB 


9  St.  Joseph. 


teacefol  dreams  hovered 
ir  mysteries.  The  stars 
ids.  The  guardian  sun 
son  are  absent,  keeping 
in  another  hemisphere, 
t,  rolling  on  in  its  nn- 
ars  to  sing  in  ceaseless 
for  ever  be  Thon,  O  i9on 


XXIX. 

SCENES  IN  NAZARETH. 

lEAR  spouse,  it  is  late,  and  our  evening 
repast 
Is  not  ready,  nor  have  I  a  morsel  of 
bread ; 

This  morning  I  gave  our  sweet  Jesus  the  last, 
And    He    may  be    hungry  —  'tis    that  which  I 
dread." 

Thus  speaks  gentle  Mary,  and  Joseph,  who  hears, 
To  heaven  looks  up  with  his  calm,  trusting  eyes : 

"  Help  will  come  to  us,  Mary,  have  thou  no  fears, 
Our  God  will  provide  for  His  Son  in  some  wise. 

"  See,  here  is  some  work,  I  am  finishing  now — 
A  box  I  have  fashion'd  with  all  my  best  skill ; 

It  is  for  the  lord  of  yon  palace  below, 
That  rises  so  grand  at  the  foot  of  the  iiUI. 


J^ 


raaRTEa?CE3«<^^'SSf'**V'^^'';'3HiJSi»M 


244  Leqendb  of  St.  Joseph. 


J 


"  In  less  than  an  hour  the  work  will  bo  done,— 
Onr  dear  Jesus  shall  carry  it  home,  and  be  paid  ; 

Then  you  shall  have  bread  for  your  well-bcloved 
Son, 
And  Heaven  will  thus  send  us  help,  as  I've  said." 

To  his  hard,  ceaseless  toil,  with  fresh  courage  he  goes. 
Nor  heeds  the  big  drops  from  his  hot  brow  that 

fall,— 
What  are  labor  and  sweat  when  the  laborer  knows 
He  is  working  to  nourish  the  Saviour  of  all? 

The  work  being  finish'd,  said  Joseph  :  "  My  Son, 
Wilt  Thou  carry  this  box  to  the  castle  down 
there?" 

Yea,  and,  Joseph,  thy  hard,  patient  labo     ath  won 
Such  guerdon  aa  never  hath  fall'n  to  tl    share  I 

At  the  door  of  the  mansion  the  Saviour  now  stands, 
Full  humbly  he  knocks  in  the  portal's  deep  shade ; 

"What  brings  thee,  ChUd,  hither?"  a  menial  de- 
mands : 
"Lol  this  box  for  thy  master  my  father  l»th 

made." 


■  -•*-j-)kV»XK»Hi?WJt--e*1t« 


■i.-ia6wr»tfgfirijJ'iiMi.ni..'<'*iMiiif«  fin-wrwwu.iiiijw'"""'!' 


St.  Joseph. 

work  will  bo  done, — 
ry  it  home,  and  be  paid  ; 
sad  for  your  well-beloved 

3nd  ns  help,  as  I've  said." 

with  fresh  courage  he  goes, 
ps  from  his  hot  brow  that 

i  when  the  laborer  knows 
ih  the  Savioarof  all? 

aid  Joseph  :  "  My  Son, 
I  box  to  the  castle  down 

rd,  patient  labo     ath  wou 
hath  fall'u  to  tl    share  I 

ion  the  Saviour  now  stands, 
1  in  the  portal's  deep  shade ; 
iQd,  hither?"  a  menial  de- 

thy  master  my  father  l»th 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


246 


Quoth  the  lackey,  in  scorn:   "Small  chance  hast 
thou  now 
Of  seeing  my  master— to-morrow  come  back." 
"  I  will  wait,"  said  young  Jesus,  a  cloud  on  His  brow  ; 
Full  well  the  Child  knows  what  His  dear  parents 
lack. 

All  trembling  He  lingers,  in  hope  and  in  fear : 
At  length  comes  the  master  :  "This  work  is  well 
done; 

It  must  needs  please  my  lady,  my  Miriam  dear— 
I  wUl  soon  see  thy  father,  if  thou'rt  Joseph's  son." 

A  blush  overspreads  the  fair  face  of  the  Child,— 
Not  from  shame  or  from  pride.  He  is  humble  of 
heart ; 
But  He  thinks  of  His  parents— in  words  sweet  and 

mild. 
He  asks  to  receive  of  the  payment  a  part. 

Cried  the  master,  in  anger,  "  Go,  get  thee  away ! 
With  low  people  like  these,  their  work  is  scarce 

done, 
When,  forsooth,  thou  art  call'd  on  the  very  same  day, 
To  pay  what  thou  owest  before  set  of  sun ! " 


246 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Then  Jesas,  all  sorrowful,  turns  from  the  door, 
And  thinks  how  His  parente  must  go  without 
bread —  ' 

When  lo  !  gentle  Miriam,  stepping  before, 
With  a  pitying  smile,  lays  her  hand  on  His  head. 

"  O  blame  not  my  husband,"  she  said,  "  gentle  Child  ; 

His  cares  they  are  many— to-morrow,  thou'lt  see, 
He  will  pay  thee  the  better,"  and  sweetly  she  smiled, 

"For  the  words  that  are  now  so  displeasing  to 
thee. 

"  Meanwhile,  I  pray  thee  this  bauble  to  take— 
Tis  a  ring  which  thy  father  may  sell  in  the  town  ; 

The  help  it  will  bring  thee  I  give  for  thy  sake, 
I  would  not,  dear  Child,  send  thee  home  with  a 
frown." 

The  lady  was  gone,  and  the  beautiful  Child 

Stood  musing  a  moment ;  what  thoughts  had  He 
then  f 
Ah  I    gracious  they  were,  f*  he  looked  up    and 

smiled, — 
There  were  mercy  and  goodness  stUl  found  amongst 

men  1 


p  St.  Josiph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


247 


,  turns  from  the  door, 

I  parents  most  go  without 

I,  stepping  before, 

lays  her  hand  on  His  head. 

nd,"  she  said,  "  gentle  Child ; 
iny — to-morrow,  thou'lt  see, 
;ter,"  and  sweetly  she  smiled, 
t  are  now  so  displeasing  to 

le  this  bauble  to  take- 
father  may  sell  in  the  town  ; 
lee  I  give  for  thy  sake, 
)hild,  send  thee  home  with  a 

I  the  beautiful  Child 

aent ;  what  thoughts  had  He 

irerc,  f(fir  he  looked  up    and 

id  goodness  still  found  amongst 


To  His  parents  He  quickly  the  jewel  convey'd— 
"Wo  have  bread  now,"  he  said,  "for  a  long  time 
to  come  ; 
And  Ho  told  them  of  all  the  sweet  lady  had  said. 
And  how  kindly  she  sent  Him  with  joy  to  their 
home. 

A  blessing  from  Joseph,  from  Mary  a  prayer,  « 

Rewarded  the  lady  for  what  she  had  done, 

And  Jesus  said  low,  with  His  own  God-like  air, 
"By  her  goodness,  fair  Miriam  my  heaven  hath 
won!" 


% 


1T«'" 


!     I 


XXX. 

TffiS?  SAW. 

INE  day  in  Nn/areth,  under  a  scoroh-^ 
ing  sun,  a  luau  was  painfully  saw- 
ing a  long  plank.  This  man  was 
St.  Joseph,  the  foster-father  of 
Josus,  a  simple  working  man,  whose  sublime 
epitaph  is  thus  found  in  the  Gospel :  A  jtut 
man. 

The  sweat  was  streaming  from  his  brow,  for 
the  plank  was  broad  and  the  teeth  of  the  saw 
straight,  as  they  were  then  made  (says  the  le- 
gend), with  difficulty  catching  the  wood,  at  the 
third  cut. 

Twenty  times  did  St.  Joseph  wipe  /his  fore- 
head, his  face,  his  beard,  and  resume  his  work, 
without  a  murmur,  or  the  least  sign  of  im- 
patience, doubtless  o£fering  up  his  toil  and 
fatigue  to  God. 


'SJ 


Leqendb  of  St.  Jobbpu. 


m 


KX. 

SAW. 

a^.areth,  under  a  scoroh-^ 
man  was  painfully  saw- 

plauk.  This  man  was 
1,  the  foster-father  of 
Dg  man,  \rhose  sublime 

in  the  Gospel :  A  jtiat 

kming  from  his  brow,  for 
tnd  the  teeth  of  the  saw 
then  made  (says  the  le- 
atching  the  wood,  at  the 

t.  Joseph  wipe  /his  fore- 
:d,  and  resume  his  work, 
r  the  least  sign  of  im- 
fferiug  up  his  toil  and 


At  length  the  saw  gave  its  last  silvery  sound, 
to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  workman,  who, 
this  timo,  manifested  his  joy  by  a  brightening 
up  of  hirt  fine  and  venerable  face. 

Mid-day  n')j(/«.— The  Amjelm  was  not  said 
then,  but  tlie  fervent  Jews  raised  their  souls 
to  God.  Joseph  did  so,  and  laying  himself 
down  on  a  bed  of  chips,  he  soon  slept  what  is 
uptly  called  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

Now,  Satan  had  been  watching  for  some 
time  at  the  door  of  the  workshop.  He  had 
first  seen  a  man  hard  at  work;  and,  with- 
out knowing  who  he  was,  he  said:  "There 
is  nothing  to  be  done  here  I "...  But  the 
workman  had  laid  down  his  saw,  and  was 
asleep. 

Then  Satan,  Uttle  suspecting  the  quality  of 
the  dwellers  in  that  house,  resolved  to  play  a 
trick  on  the  slumberer,  whose  heavy  breath- 
ing already  assured  Satan  that  he  was  fast 

asleep. 

Taking,  then,  a  visible  form,  he  began  by 
examining  the  tools, one  after  another:  chisels, 


If 


i"U 


250 


Legends  of  St.  Joskph. 


hammers,  planes,  pincers.  None  of  these 
seemed  to  give  him  the  desired  opportunity  oi 
doing  mischief. 

There  remained  the  saw,  which  he  angril] 
laid  hold  of.  The  saw  of  that  tiine,  the  straigh 
teeth  of  which,  standing  in  line,  gave  him  th< 
drollest  means  of  doing  what  he  desired,  eithe 
by  breaking,  or  bending  them,  so  as  to  plac( 
them  farther  apart,  one  from  the  other.  B 
ohose  the  latter,  as  the  surest  means  of  mya 
tifying  the  artisan. 

But  the  devil,  it  would  seem,  was  no  mor 
of  a  mechanician  than  the  Jews  of  that  day 
and  he  little  thought  that  he  was  thus  givin 
St.  Joseph  the  secret  of  the  real  teething  of 
saw.  So  far  from  that  was  he,  that  when  hi 
work  was  finished,  his  face  expressed  a  mal 
cious  pleasure  that  looked  almost  like  jo; 
Then  quitting  his  assumed  form,  he  awaitc 
the  awaking  of  the  blessed  sleeper. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long.  Joseph  aros 
and,  with  eyes  still  dim  and  misty  from  slee 
he  mechanically  took  up  the  saw,  which  1 


SHM 


Ds  OF  St.  Joseph. 

i,    pincers.     None   of  these 
im  the  desired  opportunity  of 

id  the  saw,  which  he  angrily 
3  saw  of  that  tiine,  the  straight 
tanding  in  line,  gave  him  the 
E  doing  what  he  desired,  either 
bending  them,  so  as  to  place 
art,  one  from  the  other.  He 
as  the  surest  means  of  mys- 
m. 

,  it  would  seem,  was  no  more 
Q  than  the  Jews  of  that  day ; 
)ught  that  he  was  thus  giving 
ecret  of  the  real  teething  of  a 
m  that  was  he,  that  when  his 
ed,  his  face  expressed  a  mali- 
that  looked  almost  like  joy. 
his  assumed  form,  he  awaited 
the  blessed  sleeper, 
to  wait  long.    Joseph  arose, 
still  dim  and  misty  from  sleep, 
y  took  up  the  saw,  which  he 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


261 


tried  on  a  plank,  according  to  his   custom, 
before  he  commenced  cutting  anything. 

I  leave  you  to  guess  his  surprise,  when,  in- 
stead of  a  faint  cut,  the  tool,  in  its  going  and 
coming,  slipped  over  the  wood  with  unwonted 
ease,  and  cut  deep,  to  the  great  disappoint- 
ment of  the  devil,  who  took  flight,  and  never 
went  there  again. 

The  poor  devil  knew  not  that  the  holy  man 
had  prayed  to  God,  and  that  God  watches 
over  the  interests  of  those  who  invoke  Him, 
whether  they  are  asleep  or  awake. 


MHim—'Twi 


»Tiiiii1r'1iiyniiiM 


XXXI. 

THE  CHOICE  OF  A  KING. 


us  a 


IBA,  truly,  this  day  we  will  choose 
ruler, 
Unto  whom  we  shall  all  of  ns  sub- 
ject be. 

We  shall  honor  him  duly  as  lord  and  as  master, — 
As  kmg  Archelaus  mleth,  so  shall  he. 
So  long  as  he  remaineth 

Wise,  prudent,  patient,  kind, 
A  true  and  faithful  follower 
In  each  one  of  us  he  shall  find.'' 

Twas  Simon  thus  spoke,  of  the  children  the  eldest— 

In  their  games  and  their  frolics  he  led  the  rest ; 
Like  a  juTenile  prophet,  well  noted  wef  e  all  his  say- 
ings, 
And  so  free  and  fttink  he  was  that  his  comrades 
loved  him  the  best. 


XXI. 

'E  OF  A  KING. 

is  day  we  will  choose  us  a 

m  we  shall  all  of  ns  snb- 
e. 

as  lord  and  as  master, — 
eth,  so  shall  be. 
laiaeth 

patient,  kind, 
'ul  follower 

us  he  shall  find." 

,  of  the  children  the  eldest — 
eir  frolics  he  led  the  rest ; 
,  well  noted  wey e  all  his  say- 

uk  he  was  that  his  comrades 

St. 


Lboetob  of  St.  Joseph.  253 

«Let  us  now  begin,"  said  he;  "Little  John,  come 
hither  1 
Speak  low,  and  tell  me  who  will  be  thy  choice  ; 
I  will  inscribe  the  names-now,  tell  me  who  shall  be 
master — 
Ha!    beware    that    none   of    them    hear    thy 

yoice  1 " 

Timidly  John  drew  nigh,  casting  his  blue  eyes  down- 

ward. 
Fair  as  an  Angel  he  was,  light  and  waving  his 

hair; 
He  was  only  six  years  old,  but  so  sweet  and  gentle 

his  nature. 
That  the  children  all  would  have  his  voice  in  tha'- 

grand  affair. 
Said  John,  with  a  heavenly  smUe,  "I  would  like  to 
have  Jesus." 
He  is  not  the  oldest  among  us ;  but  me,  I  like 

Him  the  best — 
I  would  wish  Him  to  be  our  kmg."    "  Thy  judgment 
is  good,"  quoth  Simon, 
And,  his  dark  eyes  beaming  approval,  he  smiling 

tum'd  to  the  rest. 

22 


pi:|| 


•251 


Leoends  op  St.  Jo^bph. 


"Mathias!    what   sayest    thou?     Thoa   art   ever 
thoughtful  and  loving." 
Pensively  smiled  Mathias,  a  pale    and   delicate 
child ; 
Shunn'd  and  neglected  he  was  at  times  by  hU  stur- 
dier  comrades, 
Too  grave  and  retiring  was  he  to  join  in  their 
gambols  wild. 
But  One  there  was,  who  loved  and  pitied  Mathias, 
And  at  once  from  his  pale  lips  fell  the  name  of 
this  generous  friend. 
« Jesus,"  he  whisper'd  low;  "I  will  have  none  but 
Jesus — 
No  one  Uke  Him  can  pity,  or  comfort,  or  do- 

fend. 


i  1 1 


"He  is  the  One  that  takes  care  of  me,  weeps  with 
me  when  I  am  sorrowfu' ; 
I  would  have  Him  for  our  king ;  there  is  none  so 
fitting  as  He." 
•Mathias,  thou  speakest  well— wise  thou  art,  littie 

comrade ; 
Now,  Andrew,  brother  of  mine,  say,  who  will  thy 

choice  be  ?  " 


Mmmmr'immminsmft 


F  St.  Joseph. 


it    thou?     Thoa   art   ever 

(ving." 

thias,  a  pale    and   delicate 

he  was  at  times  by  his  stur- 

ng  was  he  to  join  in 

1  loved  and  pitied  Mathian, 

is  pale  lips  fell  the  name  of 

end. 

low ;  "  I  will  have  none  but 

»n  pity,  or  comfort,  or  de- 


takes  care  of  me,  weeps  with 

lorrowfu'  ; 

[pr  our  king ;  there  is  none  so 

est  well— wise  thou  art,  little 

lier  of  mine,  say,  who  will  thy 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph.  256 

Said  Andrew:  "Tis  Mary's  Son  that  ought  to  be 
our  ruler ; 
Simon,  I  pray  thee,  see  that  he  shall  be  our  king. 
There  is  none  of  us  half  so  good,  so  loving,  so  kkd  I 
80  patient — 
Oh !  no  one  is  ever  in  trouble  but  comfort  He's 
sure  to  bring. 
I  know  how  kind  He  was  to  our  mother  when  she  • 
was  nflSicted, 
When  our  father  was  taken  away,  and  left  her 
lonely  and  sad  ; 
Our  Jesus  told  her  of  heaven,  where  husbands  and 
wives  dwell  united. 
Till  he  made  her  look  again  as  if  she  were  almost 
glad." 

"What  thou  sayest  is  troe,  O  Andrew ;  no  one  bo 
kind  as  Jesus — 
So  far,  it  seems  to  me  wc  are  all  of  the  very  same 
mind. 
Fair  Matthew,  come  hither,  I  pray,  and  who  thott 
wilt  choose  now  tell  me ; 
Full  soon  thou  wiK  be  a  maI^-art  thou  to  a  ruler 
inclined?" 


266 


Leoenss  of  St.  Joseph. 


li  '  '■'- '' 


isHs 


\  % 


*  I- ' 


"  Yea,  and  'tis  Jesus  I  choose,"  gravely  and  slowly 

said  Matthew. 

"Who  else  is  so  fitted  to  rule — so  generous,  wise, 

and  jost  1 

Moreover,  He  looks  a  king ;  noble  His  face  is  and 
royal. 

If  a  ruler  we  fain  would  have,  Jesus  it  shall  be, 
and  must." 

"Tis  well,  'tis  well  I  I  see  that  justice  prevails," 

qnoth  Simon. 

"  Come  hither.  Lord  Jesus,  I  pray  thee,  and  listen 

to  what  I  say. 

Be  not  surprised  to  hear  that  Thou  for  our  king  art 

chosen — 

Each  one  of  us  here  is  promised  thine  orders  to 

obey" 

Was  He  of  earth,  that  Child,  before  whom  they  bent 
all  lowly  ? 
Or  was  He  a  heavenly  spirit  conccal'd  in  mortal 
guise? 
Ab !  truly  He,  and  He  only,  merited  all  the  honor, 
For  the  light  of  Heaven's  deep  glory  beam'd  ftom 
His  wondrous  eyes. 


I  ill    • 


,?. 


or  St.  Joseph. 


Lbobkds  of  St.  Joseph. 


m 


I  choose,"  gravely  and  slowly 

ted  to  mle — so  generons,  irise, 

king ;  noble  His  face  is  and 

ironld  have,  Jeinis  it  shall  be, 

I  see  that  justice  preTails," 
I  Jesus,  I  pray  thee,  and  listen 
ear  that  Thou  for  our  king  art 
re  is  promised  thine  orders  to 

k  Child,  before  whom  they  bent 

enly  spirit  conccal'd  in  mortal 

e  only,  merited  all  the  honor, 
iaven's  deep  glory  beam'd  from 
eyes. 


But  a  Mother  is  there  who  hears,  and  sees,  and 
ponders 

On  every  word  and  action  of  the  Child— 
"  Fjw  fair  He  is  1  how  sweet  I    Look  now,  0  Jo- 
seph 1 

How  fit  He  is  to  rule  them  1 "  and  she  smiled. 
"  How  great  one  day  shall  be  His  royal  power. 

When  'neath  His  bamiers  all  the  nations  range  I 
Oh  !  light  as  now  it  is,  be  then  His  sceptre  ; 

But  great,  indeed,  shall  be  the  wondrous  change  1" 

Said  Joseph  :  "  Great,  indeed  1    But  yet  a  sword  of 
sorrow 
Shall  pierce  thy  heart.     But  joy  shall  yet  be 
thine, 
And'overflow  thy  soul :  Mother  of  Man's  B«deemer, 
With  Him,  in  glory,  thou  shalt,  one  day,  shine  l" 

Thus  did  St.  Joseph  gently  soothe  and  comfort 
His  blessed  spouse,  with  loving  words  and  sweet, 

Foreshewing  Jesus  in  resplendent  glory. 
In  that  bright  heaven  where  they  were  all  to  meet 


Tr;-^i'^^;K\T;v-!>^"'^^S^V>:',nii?'SS^Si5i'a>; 


xxxn. 

AN  APPARITION. 

|T  happened  once  that  on  the  Feast 
of  All  Saints  there  died,  in  an  TJr- 
sulme  Convent,  a  good  religious, 
named  Gabriella  of  the  Incarna- 
tion, who  had  been,  in  her  lifetime,  a  model 
of  all  vbtues.  She  appeared,  after  her  death, 
to  her  Superior,  Mother  Angela,  who  since 
died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity,  and  who  related 
to  her  director,  in  the  foUowing  terms,  What 
had  taken  place : — 

"On  the  6th  of  November,  1660,  between 
three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after 
saying  my  prayers,  I  was  preparing  to  write 
gome  letters ;  but  I  found  it  impossible :  I  felt 
myseU  strongly  impeUed  to  beg  that  God 
would  show  mercy  to  the  good  Mother  Incar- 
nation ;  and,  if  she  were  not  in  glory,  to  grant 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


:xn. 

>ARITION. 

once  that  on  the  Feast 
its  there  died,  in  an  Ur- 
Qvent,  a  good  religious, 
ibriella  of  the  Incarna- 
in  her  lifetime,  a  model 
ppeared,  after  her  death, 
ther  Angela,  who  since 
ianctity,  and  who  related 
le  following  terms,  ifrhat 

November,  1660,  between 
ok  in  the  morning,  after 
L  was  preparing  to  write 
jund  it  impossible :  I  felt 
jelled  to  beg  that  God 
J  the  good  Mother  Incar- 
rere  not  in  glory,  to  grant 


it  to  her  through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ, 
His  Divine  Son,  and  by  the  intercession  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  whose  holy  scapular  she 
had  worn.    The  reason  why  I  felt  bound  to 
ask  this  request  was,  that  all  night  long  I 
could  not  keep  from  thinking  of  that  dear 
mother ;  and  often  since  her  death,  although 
I  could  fain  have  persuaded  myself  that  she 
enjoyed  God,  my  heart  began  to  beat  when- 
ever I  thought  of  her.    At  last,  I  felt  it  incum- 
bent on  me  to  ask  Our  Lord,  that  if  it  were 
for  His  glory  and  the  welfare  of  souls.  He 
would  make  known  to  us  the  state  of  that 
good  religious. 

"A  little  while  after,  she  appeared  before 
me  with  a  very  mild  aspect,  looking  more 
humbled  than  suflfering,  although  I  saw  well 
that  she  suffered  much.  At  first,  when  I  saw 
her  so  near  me,  I  was  very  much  frightened ; 
but  as  there  was  nothing  in  her  appearance 
to  make  me  afraid,  I  soon  got  over  my  fear. 
Having  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  myself, 
I  besought  Our  Lord  that  I  might  not  be  de- 


IPs 


t 


Mi 


2J0  Leoeubs  ot  St.  Joskpb. 

Guardian.  After  lootogly  -"«" "-^^  "j^ 
1  re»olv«a  to  speak  to  her,  mi  a.ked  her 
lhTlteehe»a,in.aBd.heiher«ecodd 

Tender  her  .»y  service.  She  repUed  lUat  she 
las  eatisCing  the  Divine  ineiiee.nP3'°^, 
I  begged  of  her  to  teU  me  »hat  kept  her 

there  -il  Go*  ?«■"'"«*  "  ""  °"  Tf 
tn     She  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  told  n.e: 

Tan.  there  on  ao«nnto.  several  aetsotneg- 

uLee  in  the  ordinary  routine  of  religions  Me, 
aCity  in  giving  in  ..sentln-ents  too  pnr^ 
human  in  regard  to  the  religions;  but,  above 
TL  a  habit  of  keeping  smaU  things  for  my 
*    nse,anddisposmgofthemaceord,ngto 

„y  wants,  or  to  my  natural  .nchnaUons.     I 
replied:  '-Why,  you  had  perm»sion.       ^^ 
^Ltimes  I  had,'  she  answered,  •  or  presum^ 
Had-  but  that  is  not  enough  before  God. 
Thetw  ot  poverty  and  the  obligation  of  reh- 
^ous  perfeottou  denfand  a  very  d-ffe^nt  de- 
!:«  of  strictness.    God  sees  things  w.th  ve^ 
Silerent  eyes  from  what  we  do,  and  J  soub 


J"  St.  Joseph. 

ided  myself  to  my  Angel 
kingly  attentively  at  her, 
to  her,  and  asked  her 
in,  and  whether  we  could 
je.    She  replied  that  she 
ivine  justice  in  purgatory. 
,  tell  me  what  kept  her 
aiitted  it  for  our  instruc- 
i  deep  sigh,  and  told  me: 

unt  of  several  acts  of  neg- 
„.y  routine  of  religious  life; 

in  to  sentiments  too  purely 
,  the  religious;  but,  above 

eeping  smaU  things  for  my 
jsing  of  them  according  to 
av  notural  inclinations.'  I 
m  had  permission.  les, 
she  answered, 'or  presumed 

is  not  enough  before  God. 
by  and  the  obligation  of  reh- 
iedand  a  very  different  de- 
God  sees  things  with  very 
*m  what  we  do,  and  if  soulB 


Leobnm  of  St.  Joseph. 


an 


only  knew,  during  life,  the  wrong  they  do  to 
God  and  to  themselves  by  not  aiming  at  per- 
fection, and  how  much  they  must  suffer  m 
order  to  expiate  their  weaknesses,  their  cow- 
ardly compliances,  and  their  self-gratification, 
they  would  more  easily  overcome  themselves 
in  this  Ufe,  and  foUow  more  faithfully  the  light 
of  His  grace.' 

"  I  besought  her  to  tell  me  how  our  commu- 
nity and  I  could  remedy  this  evil.    She  re- 
plied: 'There  is  generally  a  wtot  of  submis- 
Bion  of  mind,  of  interior  recollection,  of  charity 
in  bearing  with  the  neighbor,  and  of  subjec- 
tion to  obedience:  it  was  so  with  myself  in 
my  lifetime.    As  for  you,  in  particular,  you 
must  be  careful  not  to  grant   blindly,  and 
through   natural   condescension,  every  little 
gratification  to  the  senses.    You  should  labor 
to  destroy  all  tendency  to  partiality,  and  to 
estabUsh  in  the  community  the  spirit  of  sim- 
pUcity  and   docility.     I  recommend  to  you 
those  who  are  related  to  me;  they  often  de- 
part from  the  ways  of  God.' 


i-  ^Mfe'^^^*^'**^'^"-''- ""''''' 


11, 


262 


LEamros  of  St.  Joseph. 


"  At  the  end  of  the  discourse  I  asked  lior  if 
we  could  serve  her  in  any  way.     She  an- 
swered: 'I  ardently  desire  to  see  and  possess 
God,  but  I  am  content  to  satisfy  His  justice 
as  long  as  He  pleases.'    I  asked  her  if  her 
pain  was  great.     'It  would  be  inconceivable,' 
she  said,  '  to  those  who  do  not  feel  it.'     I 
besought  her  to  be  our  advocate  with  God, 
and  recommended  to  her  one  person  in  par- 
ticular.    'That  soul.'  said  she,  'is  truly  de- 
voted to  God:  let  her  pray  for  me,  and  you 
also.'    Saying  this,  she  approached  my  face, 
as  if  to  take  leave  of  me :  it  seemed  to  me  as 
though  a  coal  of  fire  had  burned  me,  although 
her  face  did  not  touch  mine,  and  my  arm  hav- 
ing rubbed  a  little  against  ber  sleeve,  was 
burned  so  that  it  pained  me  severely.    At  the 
same  moment  she  disappeared. 

"The  whole  of  my  left  cheek  continued 
very  sore,  and  the  bum  on  my  arm,  right  at 
the  wrist,  is  larger  than  a  crown  piece,  and 

very  painful. 

"The  same  day,  between  eight  and  nine  m 


iP  St.  Joseph. 


Leqkndb  of  St.  Joseph. 


268 


discourse  I  asked  hor  i! 
in  any  way.     She  an- 
lesire  to  see  and  possess 
mt  to  satisfy  His  justice 
J6S.'    I  asked  her  if  her 
would  be  inconceivable,' 
who  do  not  feel  it.'     I 
our  odvocate  with  God, 
o  her  one  person  in  par- 
;  said  she,  •  is  truly  de- 
ier  pray  for  me,  and  you 
she  approached  my  face, 
if  me :  it  seemed  to  me  as 
a  had  burned  me,  although 
ch  mine,  and  my  arm  hav- 
5  against  her  sleeve,  was 
lined  me  severely.    At  the 
lisappeared. 

my  left  cheek  continued 
bum  on  my  arm,  right  at 
r  than  a  crown  piece,  and 

,  between  eight  and  nine  in 


the  morning,  my  holy  Angel  appeared  to  me 
in  my  room,  to  which  I  had  retired.  (Her 
Augel  Guardian  often  appeared  to  her.)  I 
asked  him  if  the  vision  I  had  had  in  the 
moruiug  was  real,  and  if  it  was  the  soul 
of  my  mother,  Gabriella  of  the  Incarnation. 
He  replied:  'Yes,  it  is  an  abundance  of 
grace  that  God  has  vouchsafed  to  you  all,  to 
let  you  know  that  the  faults  which  people 
commit  are  greater  than  they  suppose.  This 
soul  was  of   good  wiU;   profit    by  her  ex. 

ample.' 

"  On  the.  night  between  the  29th  and  30th 
of  the  same  month,  being  St.  Andrew's  day, 
this  mother  again  appeared  to  me,  and  gave 
mo  to  understand  that  she  was  putting  in  a 
part  of  her  purgatory  in  our  midst,  that  she 
hoped  to  enter  on  eternal  rest  on  the  Feast 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  and  that  tho 
amiable  Mother  of  Jesus,  and  St.  Joseph,  to 
whom  she  had  been  very  devout,  had  ob- 
tained mercy  for  her;  that  her  purgatory 
would  have  been  long,  without  their  assiot- 


i--s 


KjTio.:s«ISiii*«sfc.>«s«J**^'' 


264 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


ill' 


ance.    She  told  me  that  most  religious  had 

much  to  satisfy  for  in  the  other  life,  beoau8( 

they  did  not  make  a  dirt:.f  application  to  th< 

ordinary  acts  of  religion,  and  that  many  o 

the  actions  of  life  are  done  through  habil 

and  have,  therefore,  little  efficacy  before  God 

that  very  often  they  neglect  to  enter  into  th 

true  light  of  grace,  to  avoid  domg  violence  t 

nature ;  that  no  soul  is  left  without  light  t 

know  the  designs  of  God ;  but  that,  as  exect 

tion  requires  constraint,  and  a  subjection  ( 

nature  and  our  own  spirit,  few  persons  wis 

to  penetrate  that  light,  and  follow  it  in  the 

conduct ;  for  which  reason  it  is  that  few  sou 

correspond  with  the  designs  of  God,  and  thi 

that  is  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  the  pu 

gatory  of  religious.    I  asked  her  what  it  is  thi 

the  soul  suffers,    ahe  answered  me:   'Tl 

soul   feels    withy  i   itself    an   ardent   desii 

which,  like  a  devouring  fire,  impels  it  to  j 

and  be  united  to  its  God,  and  it  sees  it8( 

bound  and  detained  by  a  thousand  little  nt 

and  cords,  which  are  but  very  slowly  co 


IDS  OF  &r.  Joseph. 


me  that  most  religious  had 
for  in  the  other  life,  because 
£6  a  dirt-.^f  application  to  the 
I  religion,  and  that  many  of 
life  are  done  through  habit, 
ore,  little  efficacy  before  God; 
they  neglect  to  enter  into  the 
ice,  to  avoid  doing  violence  to 
)  soul  is  left  without  light  to 
8  of  God ;  but  that,  as  execu- 
)nstraint,  and  a  subjection  of 

own  spirit,  few  persons  wish 
at  light,  and  follow  it  in  their 
lich  reason  it  is  that  few  souls 
1  the  designs  of  God,  and  that 
he  principal  causes  of  the  pur- 
•us.  I  asked  her  what  it  is  that 
•s.  ohe  answered  me;  'The 
hiji  itself  an  ardent  desire, 
evouring  fire,  impels  it  to  go 

to  its  God,  and  it  sees  itself 
ained  by  a  thousand  little  nets 
lich  are  but  very  slowly  con- 
% 


Lbigends  of  St.  Joseph. 


266 


T 

I    sumed  by  the  activity  of  the  fire.    Its  under- 
>     I    standing  is  illumined  by  a  light  which  shows 
1     I     it  the  means  it  had  of  breaking  these  cords 
E     I     .luring  Ufe,  and  the  reproaches  of  its  con- 
science make  known  to  it  that  it  basely  quit- 
ted the  straight  way  of  grace,  to  follow  that 
of  nature  and  the  senses ;  wherefore,  it  con- 
demns itself.    It  sees  the  ways  of  God,  and 
the  designs  He  had  formed  upon  it,  with  the 
little  correspondence  it  had  brought  to  them, 
,md  that  sight  is  to  it  a  great  torment,  be- 
cause of  the  immense  goodness  it  knows  in 
I~    God,  whose  ways  it  is  itself  obliged  to  jus- 
tify.' 
"On  the  8th  of  December,  1660,  between 
five  and  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  my  good 
Mother  of  the  Incarnation  appeared  to  me, 
all  shining,  and,  having  come  near,  said  to 
me:   'The  goodness  of  God  permits  me  to 
teU  you  that  I  am  now  gomg  to  enjoy  Him. 
FareweU,  my  dear  mother!    Work  for  eter- 
nity, to  which  you  aspire,  and  assure  men 
that  whatsoever  is  not  done,  said,  or  suffered 

23 


266 


Legends  ov  St.  JoBiS*H. 


<  I-- 


for  Gk)d,  results  but  in    pain  and  torment. 
There  are  many  souls  abused  in  their  prac- 
tices.'   I  begged  that  she  would  be  our  advo- 
cate with  God.    She  assured  me  she  would, 
and  that  she  would  pray  for  us.    I  recom- 
mended to  her  certain  persons  who  had  re- 
quested me  to  do  so.    She  sfc>=!med  to  receive 
my  request  kindly  ond  graciously,  but  with- 
out saying  any^injj   .v,ry  distinctly  in  reply; 
and,  approaching  the  window  that  overlooks 
the  altar,  where  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is,  she 
made  a  profound   genuflexion.     After  that, 
my  holy  Angel,  who  was  with  her,  took  her, 
as  it  were,  by  the  hand,  and  both  ascending 
upwards,  vanished  from  my  sight,  leaving  a 
sweet  perfume  in  ray  chamber,  and  my  heart 
full  of  joy  for  the  happiness  of  that  dear 
mother. 

"  It  is  because  of  the  burn  on  my  arm  that 
I  have  not  been  able  to  write  with  mine  own 
hand  all  this  little  narrative,  but  I  have  told 
all  truly,  as  far  as  I  could  remember.  I  may 
simply  say,  that  for  a  whole  month  I  seem  to 


F  St.  Jobjsfh. 


LEaEKDS  OF  St.  Joseph. 


267 


r  in  pain  and  torment. 
Is  abused  in  their  prac- 
1  she  would  be  our  advo- 

assured  me  she  would, 

pray  for  us.    I  recom- 
in  persons  who  had  re- 
She  sfcamed  to  receive 
nd  graciously,  but  with- 

.v,ry  distinctly  in  reply; 
B  window  that  overlooks 
Blessed  Sacrament  is,  she 
[enuflexion.     After  that, 

was  with  her,  took  her, 
and,  and  both  ascending 
irom  my  sight,  leaving  a 
y  chamber,  and  my  heart 

happiness  of  that  dear 

bbe  burn  on  my  arm  that 
Q  to  write  with  mine  own 
narrative,  but  I  have  told 
could  remember.  I  may 
a  whole  month  I  seem  to 


have  Buffered  a  part  of  that  good  mother's 
purgatory,  that  she  haunted  me  continually, 
and  that  I  suffered  severely  from  the  pain  of 
my  burns.  That  state  enables  me  to  con- 
ceive the  great  purity  of  mind  in  whi^-h  one 
must  live  in  order  to  appear  before  God." 


MM 


iMtW>«-: 


~]/X  u^'-tl. 


xxxin. 

THE  LOST  CHILDREN. 
(Fbou  Fabke's  "Talks  op  th«  Amoiui.") 

|IGH!  sigh!  sigh!  said  the  midnight 
wind,  as  it  swept  over  the  great 
Brazilian  forest.  And  the  tall 
palms  trembled,  and  waved  their 
green  fans,  tp  get  all  the  sea's  coolness,  which 
came  in  the  breeze ;  and  th  air  feathery  domes 
swung  to  and  fro,  like  ships  rocking  at  an- 
chor. 

"Lililpa,  death  must  be  very  beautiful!" 
said  Oniato,  "  for  death  is  God's  night." 

"  Ah !  Oniato,"  replied  Lililpa,  "but  Ught  is 
more  beautiful  than  darkness." 

"  Dearest  sister,  you  must  not  say  so,"  an- 
swered Oniato ;  "  darkness  is  more  beautiful 
than  light.    We  see  God  better  in  the  dark- 


ness. 


>• 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


269 


nn. 

CHILDREN. 
us  or  THi  Amoiu") 

sigh!  said  the  midnight 
t  swept  over  the  great 
forest.  And  the  tall 
nbled,  and  waved  their 
be  sea's  coolness,  which 
nd  thair  feathery  domes 
^e  ships  rocking  at  an- 

ist  be  very  beautiful!" 

th  is  God's  night." 

ied  Lililpa,  "but  light  is 

arkness." 

lu  must  not  say  so,"  an- 

rkness  is  more  beautiful 

God  better  in  the  dark- 


«Why  have  your  thoughts  been  so  often 
wandering  on  God  lately,  my  dearest  brother  ?'' 
said  Lililpa.  "God!  God!  it  is  a  beautiful 
word,  and  makes  a  strange  stir  in  my  heart. 
Where  is  God?    Who  is  God?" 

"I  know  not,  Lililpa;  but  when  things  make 
a  stir  in  our  hearts  they  must  be  real  things. 
There  must  be  a  God,  though  perhaps  His 

name  is  not  God." 

"  Ah !  Oniato,  I  see  why  you  love  the  dark- 
less. It  is  because  it  makes  you  think  more 
of  God.    Beautiful  darkness!  it  feels  Uke  a 

home." 

"Oh!  yes,  Lililpa;  and  when  I  have  Us- 
tened  to  the  missionaries  reasoning  with  -ny 
father,  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  Ught 
was  really  darkness,  and  darkness  really  light, 
and  that  they  had  only  agreed  to  look  like 
each  other,  instead  of  looking  like  their  own 

selves."  ...       t. 

Indeed,  the  night  was  beautiful ;  ]ust  such  a 
night  as  would  be  Ukely  to  make  children  talk 
Uke  angels.    I  wonder  how  much  they  under- 


270 


Leqends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Btcod  of  what  they  were  saying  to  each  other. 
We  are  all  of  us  bom  poets,  but  only  a  few  cf 
us  find  it  out. 

They  wandered  On.  They  were  lost  in  the 
forest.  The  boughs  met  above  their  heads 
like  the  roof  of  a  cathedral.  They  heard  the 
wild  beasts  arguing  with  each  other,  com- 
plainingly  rather  than  savi^ely.  Occasionally 
there  were  silences,  and  they  thought  they 
heard  the  earth  breathe;  but  just  as  they 
were  going  to  make  certain  of  it,  some  night- 
bird  from  a  lofty  branch  would  suddenly  pour 
forth  gushes  of  clear  song  into  the  ear  of  the 
ancient  night.  ,Why  is  night  ancient?— why 
should  it  be  more  ancient  than  day?  Nobody 
knows,  yet  everybody  says  it  is  so,  and  feels 
that  it  is  so. 

Every  now  and  then  they  saw  the  stars 
fighting  in  the  sky.  So  Lililpa  thought ;  but 
it  was  only  the  tossing  of  the  branches,  which 
kept  showing  and  hiding  the  stars.  There 
were  many  sights  and  many  sounds  in  that 
wood,  which  the  children  did  not  understand. 


!■  St.  Joseph. 

ire  saying  to  each  other, 
poets,  but  only  a  few  cf 

They  were  lost  in  the 
met  above  their  heads 
dedral.  They  heard  the 
with  each  other,  com- 
savs^ely.  Occasionally 
and  they  thought  they 
lathe;  but  just  as  they 
;ertain  of  it,  some  night- 
ich  would  suddenly  pour 
song  into  the  ear  of  the 
is  night  ancient? — why 
5ient  than  day?  Nobody 
f  says  it  is  so,  and  feels 

hen  they  saw  the  stars 
So  Lililpa  thought ;  but 
ig  of  the  branches,  which 
liding  the  stars.  There 
ad  many  sounds  in  that 
dren  did  not  understand. 


Lbgendb  of  St.  Joseph. 


271 


But  they  felt  them  all ;  and  somehow,  when 
they  felt  them,  they  whispered  to  themselves, 
"  God !  God  1 "  We  enjoy  the  day-time.  We 
feel  the  night-time.  In  the  day-time  God  sees 
us.  In  the  night-time  we  see  God.  On  earth, 
to  see  God  means  to  feel  Him.  Feeling  is 
mostly  the  best  kind  of  seeing. 

Why  had  these  children  left  home?  They 
will  never  return  to  it.  The  End  of  the  World 
will  come  in  an  hour,  and  they  shall  die  in  the 
water^  of  the  wood;  and,  having  been  really 
dead  before,  will  make  themselves  aUve  by 
dying.  Oh,  Blessed  Waters  of  the  Wood! 
Blessed  all  waters,  which  have  wood  in  them 
^the  wood  of  the  Cross ! 

O  Lililpa !  is  not  this  very  solemn  ?  Hark  I 
how  the  wmd  murmurs  1  It  has  a  voice  Uke 
that  of  our  dead  pale-faced  mother.  LUilpa, 
I  sometimes  see  my  mother  when  I  sleep. 
But  Usten  to  the  wind  1  It  sings  as  if  it  was 
unhappy.    Perhaps  the  wind  is  a  god ! " 

"But  if  it  was  a  god,  Oniato,  it  r/ould  not 
be  unhappy!" 


^i^ilfe''3^i^^iSKS;^^'^"^* 


872  Lboends  of  St.  Joseph. 

"O  Lililpa!  more  and  more  I  ask  who  is 
God  ?    We  have  no  God.    We  are  not  like  the 
Christians  with  white  faces,  such  as  come  to 
us,  and  such  as  they  say  were  kings  in  this 
land  thousands  of  years  ago.    They  have  a 
God  whom  they  love.    How  grand  the  ruins 
of  their  churches  are !   Our  mother  was  white- 
faced,  they  say ;  and  she,  too.  had  a  God,  and 
loved  Him.    Lililpa!  I  must  have  a  God,  if  it 
is  only  to  have  something  to  love." 
Lililpa  burst  into  tears. 
"  Dearest  LUUpa,"  said  Oniato,  "you  know 
I  love  you ;  you  know  what  I  mean." 

"  Oh !  yes,  brother,"  replied  LiUlpa ;  "  I  am 
not  unhappy.  I  do  know  what  you  mean,  for  I 
feel  the  same  myself ;  and  yet  I  love  you,  oh !  so 
much, so  much,  it  hurts  my  heart  sometimes!" 
And  Oniato  threw  his  arms  round  her,  and 
said :  "We  will  find  God  to-night!"    And  a 
star  shone  into  LiUlpa's  tearful  eyes.    Oh! 
sometimes  the  stars  seem  almost  to  speak  by 
their  shining. 
"  Ah !  Oniato !  I  wish  our  father  would  not 


•w 


)t.  Joseph. 


LBaENDB  OF  St.  Joseph. 


27d 


d  more  I  ask  who  is 
[.    We  are  not  like  the 
ices,  such  as  come  to 
ay  were  kings  in  this 
fs  ago.    They  have  a 
How  grand  the  ruins 
Our  mother  was  white- 
,e,  too,  had  a  God,  and 
must  have  a  God,  if  it 
ng  to  love." 
re. 

lid  Oniato,  "  you  know 
what  I  mean." 
replied  Lililpa;" I  am 

m  what  you  mean,  for  I 
ud  yet  I  love  you,  oh !  so 
}  my  heart  sometimes!" 
is  arms  round  her,  and 
lod  to-night!"  And  a 
)a's  tearful  eyes.  Oh! 
jem  almost  to  speak  by 

sh  our  father  would  not 


hum  those  white-faced  priests  in  the  fires  of 
the  snake-temples.  Even  now  it  seems  to  me 
as  if  the  wind  was  full  of  the  sound  of  those 
sighs  and  murmurs  which  they  make  in  the 

fire." 

"And  yet,  Lililpa,  they  are  not  Uke  the 

murmurs  of  pain  or  anger." 
"  No !  that  is  the  strange  thing." 
"Lililpa,  I  cannot  breathe  in  my  father's 
palace.    I  have  enticed  you  here  on  purpose. 
Let  UB  find  God.     If  not,  let  us  live  in  the 
forest,  and  die  here,  like  flowers.    Let  us  seek 
the  white-faced  man  of  God  whom  my  father 
drove  into  the  forest  to-day  to  die  of  hanger, 
or  to  be  eaten  by  the  wUd  beasts.    I  have 
hidden  a  flask  of  wine  in  my  clothes  to  take 
to  him,  if  we  can  find  him." 

"Oniato,  shall  we  ask  those  dear  stars  to 
lead  us  to  him?" 

"  No,  Lililpa;  his  God  will  know  best  where 
he  is  To  be  sure,  the  eyes  of  the  stars  seem 
to  be  everywhere.  But  I  think  we  had  better 
pray  to  his  God  instead." 


874 


Leqends  of  St.  Joueph. 


"  Oniato  I  see !  the  earth  is  on  fire  I " 

"No,  I-Hilpa;  it  is  only  the  fire-flies.  Let 
us  follow  them.  They  are  the  living  stars  of 
the  wood.  Pefhaps  God  has  sent  them  to 
lead  us." 

So  they  followed  the  fire-flies. 

Sigh !  sigh !  sigh  !  sang  the  wind ;  for  it  was 
very  tired,  as  it  had  been  all  round  the  earth. 
And  the  fire-flies  played  round  the  heads  of 
the  children,  like  glories  round  the  heads  of 
Saints  in  pictures.  Some  swung  like  globe- 
shaped  lamps  in  front  of  them,  and  seemed  to 
lead  the  way.  Many  wild  beasts  were  prowl- 
ing round.  The  flame-colored  eyes  of  the 
pumas  looked  at  the  children  as  they  passed. 
But  they  dared  not  touch  them ;  for  the  beasts 
saw  three  Angels  with  the  children,  whom  the 
children  did  not  see.  Two  were  the  Guardian 
Angels  of  the  children,  and  the  third  was  the 
Angel  of  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism. 

What  a  silence !  Deep,  deep,  deep  silence  I 
Silence  above  1  Silence  below!  Silence  all 
round ! 


r  St.  Joueph. 

earth  is  on  fire!" 
only  the  fire-flies.    Let 
r  are  the  living  stars  of 
Qod  has  sent  them  to 

3  fire-flies. 

ing  the  wind ;  for  it  was 
•een  all  round  the  earth, 
red  round  the  heads  of 
ies  round  the  heads  of 
ome  swung  like  globe- 
of  them,  and  seemed  to 
ivild  beasts  were  prowl- 
le-colored  eyes  of  the 
hildren  as  they  passed, 
ich  them ;  for  the  beasts 
the  children,  whom  the 
Two  were  the  Guardian 
i,  and  the  third  was  the 
t  of  Baptism. 
)ep,  deep,  deep  silence  i 
00  below!    Silence  all 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


275 


"Oniato,"  said  Lililpa,  "  sUence  is  more  like 
a  god  than  wind." 

It  was  near  midnight.  Tn  the  heart  of  the 
wood  a  huge  flower  slowly  opened  out,  and 
blossomed,  and  fiUed  the  forest  with  a  most 
exquisite  perfume. 

"O  Lililpa!  there  is  the  Midnight  Flower! 
Ho>v  I  should  like  to  be  a  Midnight  Flower, 
with  nobody  to  see  me  blossom,  nobody  to 
smeU  my  fragrance,  except  God!    1  suppose 
He  made  the  rest  of  the  flowers  for  us,  but 
that  one  for  Himself.    He  keeps  its  sweetness 
for  Himself  in  the  lonely  darkness.    It  smells 
like  the  flesh  of  the  white-faced  priests  in  the 
fires,  so  sweet!    The  smell  of  it  sometimes 
comes  into  my  window  from  the  wood.    It  al- 
ways makes  me  think  of  God." 

Dear  children !    They,  too,  were  truly  Mid- 
night Flowers,  and  the  hour  of  tiieir  blooming 

was  at  hand. 
"O  Oniato!  what  beautiful  soft  thunder  is 

that!" 
They  had  come  near  a  waterfaU,  under  dark 

/ 


I 


276 


Lkoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


cedars.    They  saw  the  loam  fiash  under  the 
dark  branches. 

"Oniatol  that  watorfaU  speaks  to  me  Kke 

the  voice  of  a  God." 

"Perhaps,  Lililvi,  there  is  no  God,  except 
that  Christ  who  makes  the  white-faced  priests 
smell  sweetly  in  the  fire." 

"Hush!  hush!  Oniato,- li.ok  at  the  globe 
of  fire-flies  under  the  palm    tbere  is  the  Chris- 
tian priest  sitting  on  a  rock  by  the  river  1    His 
■  back  is  rt>,-ilng  against  the  tree." 

At  thaf  raoment  it  thundered  under  their 
feet.  The  forest  rocked  and  creaked,  and  the 
gTor.nd  quivered,  like  the  sail  of  a  ship  when 
the  wi.if'.  siftokenB, 

They  vcat  up  to  the  priest.  He  seemed 
aslet  IK  But  it  was  not  so.  He  had  fainted 
from  hunger.  His  face  was  very  beautiful. 
When  the  fire-flies  disappeared,  it  was  the 
color  of  moonhght,  and  shone  very  marvel- 
lously in  the  dark  night,  with  a  soft  shining. 

"  Oniato,"  whispered  LiUlpa,  "  it  is  the  light 
of  his  God  shining  upon  his  face." 


iU. 


F  St.  Joseph. 


be  loam  iiash  under  the 

orfall  speakB  to  me  like 

there  is  no  God,  except 
es  the  white-faced  priests 

fire." 

aiato,—  li'ok  at  the  globe 

)  palm    tlisre  is  the  Chris- 

a  rock  by  the  river  1    His 

ist  the  tree." 

it  thundered  under  their 
eked  and  creaked,  and  the 
te  the  sail  of  a  ship  when 

0  the  priest.  He  seemed 
i  not  so.    He  had  fainted 

1  face  was  very  beautiful. 
3  disappeared,  it  was  the 
;,  and  shone  very  marvel- 
light,  with  a  soft  shining. 
Bred  LiUlpa,"  it  is  the  light 

upon  his  face." 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


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^....^.^^mi^^^sm^SBim!^:^m^&fmMis^^^^kssi^fiB&im^i-^^i^-£--f- 


'\ 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


277 


It  thundered  again  under  their  feet.  They 
looked  up.  Green,  and  purple,  and  crimson 
meteors  were  rushing  about  the  sky,  and 
crackling  in  the  air.  Strange  children!  they 
were  not  afraid.  They  fear  nothing  who  are 
seeking  God. 

They  went  up  to  the  priest,  and  poured 
Bome  wine  down  his  throat,  and  he  i>evived, 
and  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  them. 
"  My  children,  who  are  you?  " 
"  We  are  the  king's  children.    We  want  to 
know  about  your  God."         <  ,,.,.,„*- 

He  smiled,  and  blessed  them,  saymg,  "You 
shall  be  king's  children,  indeed ! "  n 

Then  it  thundered  again  under  their  feet, 
and  it  thundered  over  their  heads,  and  the 
trees  moaned,  and  the  meteors  crackled. 
And  he  told  them  about  Bethlehem. 
They  heard  a  hissing  noise.    A  great  dark 
mountain  was  opposite  to  them  on  the  oUier 
side  qt  the  river,  and  behold  I  a  broad,  solid 
flash  of  violet-colored  lightning  split  the  black 
mountain  in  two.    Suddenly  there  was  silence. 

?* 


I 

t  ^ 

u. 


n 
I" 


3! 


'-  ^k\4 


278 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


And  he  told  them  about  Nazareth. 

A  distant  roar  was  heard.  On  came  the 
whirlwind.  It  rooted  up  all  the  trees,  and 
carried  them  miles  into  the  air.  The  black 
mountain  sank  into  the  earth  with  a  loud 
rumbUng.  But  they  were  not  hurt.  Then 
once  more  the  rushing  of  the  river  was  heard 
in  the  silent  night.  It  wanted  only  a  few 
minutes  to  midnight. 

And  he  told  them  about  Calvary. 

And  they  clasped  their  heads  and  wept. 

Behold !  ten  thousand  wild  beasts,  howling 
and  moaning,  rushed  past  them,  pursued  by  a 
great  yellow  fire,  which  had  broken  like  a  river 
out  of  the  earth.  It  did  not  hurt  the  priest  or 
the  children. 

And  he  told  them  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
and  the  Ascension,  and  the  coming  again  to 
Judgment. 

And  Liillpa  took  hold  of  Oniata's  hand, 
and  they  both  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  said, 
"Jesus!  Jesus!" 

And  the  priest  smiled,  and  wept. 


^H 


I  OF  St.  Joseph. 

a  about  Nazareth. 

was  heard.    On  came  the 

(ted  up  all  the  trees,  and 

s  into  the  air.    The  black 

to  the  earth  with  a  loud 

ley  were  not   hurt.    Then 

liing  of  the  river  was  heard 

it.    It  wanted  only  a  few 

ht. 

oa  about  Calvary. 

cl  their  heads  and  wept. 

>usand  wild  beasts,  howling 

ed  past  them,  pursued  by  a 

hich  had  broken  like  a  river 

It  did  not  hurt  the  priest  or 

em  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
a,  and  the  coming  again  to 

ok  hold  of  Oniata's  hand, 
ked  up  to  heaven,  and  said, 

smiled,  and  wept. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


279 


And  a  venerable  white-haired  old  man  sud- 
denly appeared  at  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
and  said,  "  It  is  time ! " 

And  the  priest  said :  "  Blessed  St.  Joseph, 
I  obey."      . 

And  he  led  the  children  to  the  edg^of  the 
rock,  and  said :  "  You  have  given  me  wine : 
I  will  give  you  water, — water  with  the  blood 
of  Jesus  hidden  in  it." 

And  he  explained  Baptism ;  and  they 
begged  to  be  baptized. 

And  the  heavens  opened,  with  a  fierce 
white  light ;  and  a  huge  round  glory,  like  a 
sunrise,  was  seen  coming  swiftly  up  fiom  the 

east. 

And  the  priest  said:  "It  is  the  Lord." 
And  he  baptised  the  children.  And  when 
they  were  baptized  they  said,  "  Come,  sweet 

Jesus ! " 

And  the  earthquake  shook  the  rock  on 
which,  they  stood,  and  it  rolled  over  into  the 
deep,  foamy  water;  and,  as  they  fell,  the 
priest's  arm  was  round  them;  and  they  saw 


ft  • 


,Vi'\ 


m 


S60 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


St.  Joseph  smiling  at  them ;  and  he  pointed 
upwards,  where  a  heavenly  Lady,  all  dressed 
in  golden  light,  was  waiting  for  them. 

At  first  they  thought  it  was  their  mother. 
But  the  Lady  was  more  beautiful  than  their 
mother?  and,  though  it  seems  strange  to  say 
so,  her  face  was  more  full  of  love  than  their 
mother's  was.  Yet  everybody,  who  sees  that 
heavenly  Lady  for  the  first  time,  thinks  her 
like  his  mother,  because    her  beauty  is  so 

motherly. 

Then  they  kissed  each   other,   and    said: 
"The  Angels  are  whispering  in  our  hearts 
that  it  is  Mary  of  Bethlehem;"   and  they 
cried,   "Dear  Mary!"     And  all  three  sank 
into  the  cold  waters ;  and  it  thundered  louder 
than  ever,  and  the  water  gurgled  in  their  ears, 
and  they  clung  closer  together,  and  it  was 
painful  for  a  moment.    Then  their  ears  were 
full  of  the  sound  of  harps ;  and  they  opened 
their  eyes,  and  the  water  was  turned  into 
light,  and  it  was  heaven ! 

And  those  two  were  the  last  children,  and 


'i 


OF  St.  Joseph. 

at  them ;  and  he  pointed 
eavenly  Lady,  all  dressed 
waiting  for  them, 
aght  it  was  their  mother, 
more  beautiful  than  their 
ti  it  seems  strange  to  say 
)re  full  of  love  than  their 
everybody,  who  sees  that 
the  first  time,  thinks  her 
lecause    her  beauty  is  so 

d  each  other,  and   said : 
whispering  in  our  hearts 
>f  Bethlehem;"   and  they 
•y!"     And  all  three  sank 
3 ;  and  it  thundered  louder 
water  gurgled  in  their  ears, 
loser  together,  and  it  was 
ent.    Then  their  ears  were 
of  harps  ;  and  they  opened 
he  water  was  turned  into 
saven ! 
were  the  last  children,  and 


Leoekds  01?  St.  Joseph. 


281 


BO  the  world  ended.  Oh !  it  was  a  beautiful 
midnight  to  Oniato  and  Lililpal  It  is  day- 
time with  them  now,  eternal  day-time.  O, 
happy  children!  who  belong  to  Jesus,  and 
have  been  saved  by  His  Precious  Blood ! 


1  r  ' 


XXXIV. 

TKE  BIRD  OF  PARADISE  AND  THE 
HUMMING-BIRD. 

IHE  days  were  accomplished.  The 
great  promise  of  the  Messiah  was 
about  to  be  fulfilled.  God,  in  His 
wisdom,  had  made  choice  of  the 
privileged  creature  whom  He  would  give  as 
Mother  to  His  Divine  Son  becoming  incar- 
nate for  the  salvation  of  men.  And  soon  the 
nativity  of  the  August  Virgin  Mary  came  to 
gladden  the  whole  world.  By  another  de- 
cree of  His  admirable  Providence,  God  pre- 
pared for  the  future  Queen  of  Heaven  a 
spouse  worthy  of  her  greatness  and  her  vir- 
tues. ':■■''  --'   '^^  ••"■ 

In  a  city  of  Juda,  in  a  family,  descending 
from  David,  but  reduced,  by  the  vicissitudes 
of  fortune,  to  the  humble  rank  of  working 
people,  a  child  came  into  the  world:  it  was 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


XXIV. 

^ARADTSE  AND  THE 
IINQ-BIRD. 

ivere  accomplished.     The 

omise  of  the  Messiah  was 

be  fulfilled.     God,  in  His 

had  made  choice  of  the 

whom  He  would  give  as 

■ine  Son  becoming  incar- 

n  of  men.     And  soon  the 

ust  Virgin  Mary  came  to 

world.     By  another  de- 

,ble  Providence,  God  pre- 

iire   Queen  of   Heaven  a 

ler  greatness  and  her  vir- 

ia,  in  a  family,  descending 

iduced,  by  the  vicissitudes 

humble  rank  of  working 

ae  into  the  world:  it  was 


the  young  Joseph.  Whilst  the  Angels  sur-  • 
rounded  the  cradle  of  the  new-born  babe,  and 
celebrated  his  arrival  in  the  world,  a  Bird  of 
Paradise  appeared  in  the  vicinity  of  the  lowly 
dwelling,  and  sang,  in  melodious  tones :  "  Be- 
hold the  child  of  benediction,  the  chosen  of 
the  Lord!"  '' 

Joseph    grew    up,    progressing    more    and 
more  in  the  ways  of  perfection,  like  the  sun 
advaiicii)g  towards  his  meridian,  and  assum- 
ing every  day,  under  the  action  of  grace,  a 
new  resemblance   to  the  august  companion 
for  whom  he  was  reserved.     Mary,  on  her 
side,  grew  in  the  shade  of   the   Sanctuary, 
amongst  the  young  maidens  brought  up  with- 
in the  precincts  of  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem. 
The  day  had  come  when,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  Jewish  people,  Mary  was  to 
be  betrothed.    The  high  priest,  ignorant  of 
the  designs  of  God  upon  the  August  Vii^in, 
but  moved  by  a  Divine  inspiration,  had  placed 
in  the  Ark  the  walking-sticks  of  the  several 
candidates.    By  a  miracle  of  God's  almighty 


■1' 


m 


i»i 


'^jit^- 


284 


Lkobndb  of  St.  Joseph, 


power,  when,  on  the  third  day,  the  sticka 
were  taken  from  the  Ark,  that  of  Joseph  was 
covered  with  flowers.  At  the  same  moment, 
there  appeared  mysteriously  in  the  Temple 
the  Bird  of  Paradise,  bearing  on  his  emerald 
wings  the  message  from  heaven:  "Joseph  is 
the  chosen  of  the  Lord ! " 

The  heavens  had  dropped  down  dew  on  the 
earth,  and  the  clouds  had  rained  the  Just 
One  expected  by  the  world.    Warned  by  the 
Angel,  during  his  sleep,  of   the  sanguinnry 
projects    of    the    cruel    Herod,  Joseph    had 
promptly  taken  the  Child  and  His  Mother, 
and  fled  into  Egypt.     One  day,  during  the 
painful  journey  through  the  desert,  the  Holy 
Family  had  stopped  in  the  shade  of  a  palm- 
tree,  which  immediately  bent  down  to  offer 
its  fruit  to  our  Holy  Travellers.  ^     ' 

Meanwhile,  the  air  seemed  ^11  on  fire  with 
the  scorching  rays  of  the  sun,  and  number- 
less flies  disturbed  the   little  Infant  Jesus, 
whilst  He  slept  in  His  Mother's  arms.    For- 
♦  getting  her  own  suffermg  and  fatigue,  and 


"I 


t  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


286 


B  third  day,  the  sticks 
Ark,  that  of  Joseph  was 
At  the  same  moment, 
teriously  in  the  Temple 
,  bearing  on  his  emerald 
rom  heaven:  "Joseph  is 

.rd!" 

Iropped  down  dew  on  the 
ds  had  rained  the  Just 
e  world.    Warned  by  the 
ileep,  of   the  sangiiiunry 
uel    Herod,  Joseph    had 
.  Child  and  His  Mother, 
>t.     One  day,  during  the 
)Ugh  the  desert,  the  Holy 
I  in  the  shade  of  a  palm- 
ately  bent  down  to  offer 
'  Travellers.  ' 

lir  seemed  £^11  on  fire  with 
of  the  sun,  and  number- 
i  the  little  Infant  Jesus, 
His  Mother's  arms.  For- 
sufferbg  and  fatigue,  and 


thinking  only  of  her  Divine  Son,  Mary,  un- 
able to  drive  away  tliis  swarm  of  troublesome 
flies,  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  put  up  a 
fervent  prayer.    The  Infant  God  at  this  mo- 
ment  awoke,  and  gave  His  Mother  one  of 
those  Divine  looks  which  penetrated  the  soul 
of  the  August  Virgin  with  heavenly  consola- 
tion.    He  then  stretched  out  His  little  hands. 
Immediately  the  flies  were  changed  into  tiny 
birds,  sparkling  with  the  colors  of  the  most 
precious  stones.     They  began  to  fly  around 
the  Holy  Family,  delighting  them  with  the 
brilliant  splendor  of  their  many-tinted  plu- 
mage. 

Whilst  this  flock  of  winged  rubies  circled 
around,  doing  homage  to  the  King  of  Nature, 
appeared  in  their  midst  the  Bird  of  Paradise, 
and,  resting  on  Joseph's  head,  he  said  by  his 
song :  "  Behold  him  whom  the  Lord  chose  to 
be  the  head,  the  protector,  and  the  guide  of 
His  family!" 

Joseph  had  fulfilled  his  great  mission  upon 
earth.    He  was  going  to  rejoin  his  fathers  in 


:H 


1i 


■ti 


M 


ti'-  ! 


286 


Leoensb  of  St.  Joseph. 


the  dwelling  of  hope,  and  to  bring  them  the 
happy  tidings  of  their  approaching  deliver- 


ance. 


Around  his  death-bed,  Jesua  and  Mary  min- 
istered to  the  wants  of  the  dying  Just  Man 
and  soothed  him  with  their  loving  care.  Sud- 
denly there  appeared  at  the  window  of  the 
humble  cottage  in  Nazareth,  the  Bird  of  Para- 
dise. Spreading  its  beautiful  wings  before  the 
eyes  of  Joseph,  it  warbled  forth,  in  joyous 

strain : — 

"  Courage,  good  and  faithful  servant !  Soon 
Shalt  thou  be  with  thy  Son  and  thy  God,  in 
Paradise  1" 


)F  St.  Joseph. 


J,  and  to  bring  them  the 
eir  approaclnug  deliver- 

l)ed,  Jesua  and  Mary  min- 
9  of  the  dying  Just  Man 
h  their  loving  care.  Sud- 
id  at  the  window  of  the 
azareth,  the  Bird  of  Para- 
beautiful  wings  before  the 
warbled  forth,  in  joyous 

nd  faithful  servant !    Soon 
thy  Son  and  thy  God,  in 


^4^ 

.^^5^ 


XXXV. 

THE  LAST  MOMENTS  OF  ST.  JOSEPH. 

(FbOM   "TiIB  MYiTIOAl  CiTT   Of  GOD.") 

BUIIING  eight  years  St.  Joseph  had 
been  exercised  by  pains  and  suffer- 
ings, and  his  generous  spirit  was 
ever  more  and  more  purified  in 
the  crucible  of  patience  and  divine  love.  With 
years  his  tortures  increased,  his  strength 
diminished.  The  inevitable  term  of  life,  to 
which  we  pay  the  universal  tribute  of  death, 
approached.  His  Blessed  Spouse  increased 
her  devotion  and  her  cares,  to  serve  him  with 
inviolable  fidelity. 

This  most  holy  Lady,  knowing,  through  her 
infused  science,  that  the  last  hour  of  her 
chaste  bpouse  in  this  place  of  exile  was  very 
near,  went  to  find  her  Adorable  Son,  and  said 
to  Him :  "  My  Lord  and  my  God,  the  time  for 


288  LB5H1M  or  St.  Jomph. 

the  death  of  thy  .errant  Joseph  yhich  Thon 
h.sl  determmed  by  an  eternal  .,11  «  near  at 
hand.  I  beseech  Thee,  Lord,  by  Thme. nfi- 
l,„odness,toa,sisthtainth^hou.so 

that  his  death  may  be  as  preaous  to  Thee  as 
his  Uie  has  been  agreeable.  Bemember,  my 
slthelce^^dthehnmilityolThyservan 

_his  merits,  his  *tues,  and  the  pa.ns  he  has 
taken  to  preserve  Tliy  We  and  mme. 
tftKeu  11*  F  ^,  J,    Mother, 

Oar  Sarioor  replied  to  her.     my 

,„„r  requests  are  pleasmg  to  me,  and  the 
Cits  of  Joseph  are  m  my  thoughts.    I  wrU 

Z.  assist  him,  and  I  «m  give  him  so  emmen 
r^aoe  among  the  princes  of  my  peo^e,  that 

itliU  be  a  subject  of  admiration  for  the  An- 

JeU  and  a  motive  for  praises  to  them  and  to 

•  S».    I  win  not  do  for  an_y  nation  that  whrch 

I  will  do  for  your  Spouse." 

^  August  Lady  returned  thanis  to  her 

inostswcetSonforthisprom.se. 

During  the  nine  days  that  preceded  the 
d^th  of  St.  Joseph,  ae  Son  and  H.e  Mother 

watched  by  him  day  and  night.    They  soar- 


jr  St.  Jo&fiPH. 


rvant  Joseph,  which  Thou 
an  eternal  will,  is  near  at 
hee,  Lord,  by  Thine  infi- 
jsist  him  in  this  hour,  so 
be  as  precious  to  Thee  as 
agreeable.    Remember,  my 
lie  humility  of  Thy  servant 
tues,  and  the  pains  he  has 

'hy  life  and  mine." 

lied  to  her:  "My  Mother, 

pleasing  to  me,  and  the 
ire  in  my  thoughts.  I  will 
i  I  will  give  him  so  eminent 

princes  of  my  people,  that 
b  of  admiration  for  the  An- 

for  praises  to  them  and  to 
lo  for  any  nation  that  which 

spouse." 

xdy  returned  thanks  to  her 

jr  this  promise, 
ne  days  that  preceded  the 
,ph,  the  Son  and  the  Mother 
dayandiiight.    They  so  ar- 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


289 


ranged  it  that  one  or  the  other  was  always 
with  him.    Paring  these  nine  days,  the  Angels 
chanted  three  iimes  each  day,  by  the  Lord's 
command,  celestial  music  for  the  holy  patient. 
It  was  composed  of  canticles  of  praise  to  the 
Most  High,  and  of  benedictions  for  the  Saint 
himself ;  and,  besides,  so  deUcious  a  fragrance 
pervaded  aU  that  poor  habitation,  that  not 
only  the  man  of  God  was  fortiBed  and  cheered 
by  it,  but  many  persons  outside. 

A  day  before  his  death,  all  inflamed  with 
divine  love  for  so  many  benefits,  he  was  ele- 
vated into  a  sublime  ecstasy,  which  continued 
twenty-four  hours,  the  Lord  preserving  his 
strength  and  life  by  a  miraculous  mterpo- 

sition.  ij  J.V 

In  this  ecstatic  state  he  clearly  beheld  the 
Divine  Essence,  and  discovered  in  it,  without 
a  veil,  that  which  he  had  beUeved  by  faith, 
either  in  the  incomprehensible  Divinity,  or  m 
the  mysteries  of  the  Incarnation  and  Eedemp- 
tion-^the  Church  Militant  and  the  Sacraments 
with  which  she  is  enriched.    The  Holy  Trinity 

25 


aii«iLiii.iiiiiiiiiMniinn'i 


3i;  . 


290 


Legends  of  St.  Jos^-ph. 


destined  him  to  be  the  precursor  of  Our  Sa- 
viour  Jesus  Christ  to  the  Saints  ^vho  were  m 
Limbo,  and  commanded  him  to  announce  to 
them  anew  their  redemption,  and  to  prepare 
them  for  the  visit  which  tlie  same  Lord  was  to 
make  them  to  conduct  them  to  eternal  feUcity. 
St.  Joseph  returned  from  this  ecstasy  radiant 
in  beauty,  his  soul  divinised  from  the  view  of 
the  being  of  God.    He  addressed  himself  to 
his  spouse,  and  requested  her  benediction; 
but  she  prayed  her  most  holy  Son  to  give  it, 
which  His  Divine  Majesty  was  pleased  to  do. 
Our  Blessed  Lady,  having  knelt,  besought  St. 
Joseph  to  bless  her,  as  her  spouse  and  head. 
The  man  of  God,  not  without  a  divine  impulse, 
gave  his  benediction  to  his  beloved  spouse  be- 
fore their  separation.     She  afterwards  kissed 
the  hand  with  which  he  had  blessed  her,  and 
requested  him  to  salute  for  her  the  Saints  m 

heaven. 

The  most  liumble  Joseph,  wishing  to  close 
his  life  by  the  seal  of  humility,  asked  pardon 
of  his  holy  spouse  for  the  faults  which  he 


f  St.  Jo8^-ph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


291 


ae  precursor  of  Our  Sa- 
the  Saints  who  were  in 
led  him  to  announce  to 
Binption,  and  to  prepare 
ch  the  same  Lord  was  to 
t  them  to  eternal  felicity, 
"rom  this  ecstasy  radiant 
ivinised  from  the  view  of 
He  addressed  himself  to 
[uested  her  benediction; 
most  holy  Son  to  give  it, 
Eijesty  was  pleased  to  do. 
laving  knelt,  besought  St. 
as  her  spouse  and  head, 
b  without  a  divine  impulse, 
to  his  beloved  spouse  be- 
a.    She  afterwards  kissed 
1  he  had  blessed  her,  and 
alute  for  her  the  Saints  in 

e  Joseph,  wishing  to  close 
of  humility,  asked  pardon 
)  for  the  faults  which  he 


might  have  committed  in  her  service,  as  a 
feeble  man  of  earthly  mould.    He  entreated 
her  to  assist  him  in  this  last  hour,  and  to  in- 
tercede for  him.     He  testified,  above  all,  his 
gratitude  to  Our  Adorable  Saviour,  for  the 
benefits  that  he  had  received  from  His  most 
hberal  hand,  during  all  his  life,  and  particu- 
larly in  this  sickness.     Then  taking  leave  of 
his  blessed  Spouse,  he  said  to  her  :  "You  are 
blessed  among  all  women,  and  chosen  above 
all  creatures.    Let  angels  and  men  praise  you. 
Let  all  nations  know  and  exalt  your  dignity. 
Let  the  name  of  the  Most  High  through  you 
be  known,  adored,  and  glorified  in  all  future 
ages,  and  eternally  praised  by  all  the  blessed 
spirts,  for  having  created  you  so  pleasing  in 
His  eyes.    I  trust  to  meet  you  in  the  heavenly 

^^  After  this,  the  man  of  God  addressed  Our 

Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and,  wishing  to  speak  to 

■  His  Majesty  with  profound  respect,  he  made 

every  effort  to  kneel  on  the  ground.    But  the 

sweet  Jesus  approaching,  received  him  in  His 


I 


;n. 


292 


Lbobndb  of  St.  Joseph. 


arms,  and  the  Saint,  resting  his  head  upon 
His  shoulder,  said : — 

"  My  Lord  and  my  God,  Son  of  the  Eternal 
Father,  Creator  and  Eedeemer  of  the  world, 
give  Thine  eternal  benediction  to  Thy  servant, 
who  is  the  work  of  Thy  hands.  Pardon  the 
faults  I  have  committed  in  Thy  service  and  in 
Thy  company.  I  confess  Thee,  I  glorify  Thee, 
I  render  to  Thee,  with  a  contrite  and  humble 
heart,  eternal  thanks  for  having  chosen  me, 
by  Thine  ineffable  goodness,  from  among  men, 
to  be  the  Spouse  of  Thine  own  Mother. 
Grant,  Lord,  that  Thine  own  glory  may  be 
the  theme  of  my  gratitude  through  all  eter- 
nity." . 


I 


?  St.  Joseph. 


resting  his  head  upon 

God,  Son  of  the  Eternal 
Redeemer  of  the  world, 
lediction  to  Thy  servant, 
rhy  hands.  Pardon  the 
;ed  in  Thy  service  and  in 
fess  Thee,  I  glorify  Thee, 
li  a  contrite  and  humble 
for  having  chosen  me, 
jdness,  from  among  men, 
3f  Thine  own  Mother, 
'hine  own  glory  may  be 
ititude  through  all  eter- 


XXXVI. 

THE  HOLY  HOUSE. 

[HERE  are  men  to  be  found  whose 
limited  view  sees,  for  man  here 
below,  only  material  well-being; 
their  heart  is  dead  to  every  senti- 
ment of  a  more  elevated  order.    How  Uttle  in 
keeping  that  is  with  the  nobility  of  our  ori- 
gin'    And  is  there,  then,  no  consolation  for 
this  transitory  life  in  helping  to  merit  eter- 
nal  years?    Oh!  how  much  better  Religion 
knows  our  nature  1     The  true  friend  of  na- 
tions,  she  is  far  from  bemg  insensible  to  their 
physical  prosperity;  she  favors  them  rather 
by  the  wisdom  of  her  laws.    But  she  knows 
that  the  first  wants  of  men  are  the  wants  o 
their  souls.    No,  factories  are  not  of   equal 
value  with  temples!    Worth  far  more  is  the 
house  of  prayer,  where  eyes  are  raised  to 
heaven,  than  the  house  of  hard  labor,  where 


i'-i': 


m 


p.j»6!aES'*?ir!3r?-^ 


^J*^ 


294 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


I 


they  are  kept  bent  on  the  ground.     A  temple, 
and  especially  a  shrine,  is  a  common  centre, 
a  spot  where  all  may  unite   and  mingle  to- 
gether—those who   are  widely  separated  by 
distance  or  by  fortune,  those  whose  interests 
and  inclinations  are  the  most  dissimilar ;  it  is 
the  paternal  roof,  under  which  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  great  family,  assembled  round  the 
same  table,  and  storing  up  the  same  memo- 
ries, feel  themselves  children  of   the    same 
father :  it  is  the  beloved  abode  of  poor  and 
faithful  nations.    A  chapel  of  pilgrimage  is  a 
refuge  for  an  afflicted  soul,  which  has  nothmg 
more  to  hope  from  men  for  relief  to  its  pains ; 
it  is  a  heavenly  asylum  for  a  heart  disen- 
chanted of  the  world,  and  feeling  the  want  of 
God.    At  the  foot  of  a  lonely  altar,  one  more 
easily  lends  an  ear  to  the  voice  that  speaks  to 
the  soul,  and  far  from  the  tumult  of  the  world 
the  peace  of  God  makes  itself  better  felt. 

Hence,  the  devotion  of  pilgrimage  is  con- 
nected with  a  feeling  natural  to  the  heart  of 
man,  and  may  be  said  to  be  as  ancient  as  the 


•^ 

i 


St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


295 


the  ground.     A  temple, 
le,  is  a  common  centre, 
r  unite  and  mingle  to- 
•e  widely  separated  by 
B,  those  whose  interests 
le  most  dissimilar ;  it  is 
ler  which  all  the  mem- 
ly,  assembled  round  the 
ng  up  the  same  memo- 
children  of   the    same 
ived  abode  of  poor  and 
hapel  of  pilgrimage  is  a 
soul,  which  has  nothing 
en  for  relief  to  its  pains ; 
'lum  for  a  heart  disen- 
,  and  feeling  the  want  of 
a  lonely  altar,  one  more 
the  voice  that  speaks  to 
1  the  tumult  of  the  world 
kes  itself  better  felt, 
jn  of  pilgrimage  is  oon- 
5  natural  to  the  heart  of 
d  to  be  as  ancient  as  the 


heart  of  man.    Discouraged  by  the  confusion 
of  tongues,  the  sons  of  Noah  and  their  chil- 
dren chose  for  their  dwelling-place  the  tops 
of  the  highest  mountains,  to  preserve  them- 
selves, if  possible,  from  a  new  deluge ;  and 
they  only  descended  into  the  plains  when  pas- 
turage for  their  flocks  failed,   and  the  soil 
refused  to  produce  the  gi-ain  necessary  for 
the  support  of  their  rising  colonies.    Thence 
comes  the  respect  of   the  Orientals  for  their 
sacred  mounts,  a  respect  which  they  testify 
by  annual  visits,  accompanied  by  vows,  offer- 
ings, and  prayers. 

Veneration  for  the  cradle  of  nations  was 
afterwards  transferred  to  men  wto  made 
themselves  illustrious  by  heroic  deeds,  and 
sites  which  recalled  great  memories,  noble 
labors,  lofty  virtues.  Thus  it  is  that  the 
gratitude  of  the  Jewish  people  preserves  from 
age  to  age  the  tomb  of  Esther  and  Mardochai, 
to  which  the  Hebrews  spread  throughout 
Asia  have  gone  on  pilgrimage  for  two  thou- 
sand years.     Strange  it  is  that  the  tomb  of 


296 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


If 

i 


si 


two  exiles,  raised  by  the  gratitude  of  some 
captives,  has  survived  the  great  Assyrian  em- 
pire, and  alone  saved  from  oblivion  the  rums 
of  Ecbatana ! 

Man  is  like  the  ivy ;  he  must  be  supported 
by  something  in  order  that  he  may  have  cour- 
age to  live.    When  he  finds  neither  sympathy 
nor  comfort  amongst  his  fellow-beings,  ho  in- 
stinctively invokes  the  inhabitants  of  a  better 
world,  and  demands  of  them  that  help  which 
society  either  refuses  or  is  powerless  to  grant 
him.     Catholicity,  which  so  well  understands 
and  knows  how  to  sanctify  the  inclinations  of 
our  heart,  has  not  retrenched  from  her  wor- 
ship the 'devotion  of  pilgrimages;  and,  from 
the  first  ages  of  the  Church,  faithful  Chris- 
tians were  seen  kneeling  in  the  places  sancti- 
fied by  the  suflferings  of  Jesus  Christ,  or  made 
famous  by  mkacles  obtained  through  the  in- 
tercession of  Mary.    It  was  for  Protestant- 
ism, which    discolors   and   pulverizes  all  xt 
touches,  to  snatch  this  crown  from  the  brow 
of  Jesus  and  of  Mary,  by  forbidding  its  secta- 


p  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


297 


the  gratitude  of  some 
I  the  great  Assyrian  em- 
i  from  oblivion  the  ruins 

r ;  he  must  be  supported 
r  that  he  may  have  cour- 
le  finds  neither  sympathy 
L  his  fellow-beings,  ho  in- 
10  inhabitants  of  a  better 
of  them  that  help  which 
3  or  is  powerless  to  grant 
hieh  so  well  understands 
janctify  the  inclinations  of 
retrenched  from  her  wor- 
f  pilgrimages;  and,  from 
le  Church,  faithful  Chris- 
eling  in  the  places  sancti- 
;s  of  Jesus  Christ,  or  made 
obtained  through  the  in- 
.    It  was  for  Protestant- 
>rs    and   pulverizes  all  it 
this  crown  from  the  brow 
iry,  by  forbiddmg  its  secta- 


ries  those  pious  visits  which  are  so  useful  to 
man,  since  he  finds  therein  consolation  in  his 
woes,  support  in  his  weakness,  and  relief  in 
his  miseries. 

The  illustrious  Robertson,  unblinded  by  the 
narrow  prejudices  of  his  sect,  openly  acknow- 
ledges the  benefits  for  which  Europe  is  in- 
debted   to    foreign    pilgrimages.     First,    the 
freedom   of    the   communes,  the   creation  of 
commerce  and  the  navy,  the  propagation  of 
intelligence,  the  improvement  of   agriculture. 
Then,  it  is  the  emancipation  of  the  serfs  to 
which  pilgrimages  contributed  more  than  any- 
thing else  ;  for  the  feudal  lord,  who  mingled, 
barefoot,  with  pilgrims  of  all  conditions,  un- 
derstood more  easily,  in  his  hours  of  humility 
and  penance,  that  these  despised  slaves  were 
yet  his  brethren  before  God ;  and  when  he 
had  obtained  the  grace  he  went  to  seek,  in 
some   ancient  shrme  far  away  from  his  own 
castle,  the  thought  often  came  to  him  to  free 
a  certain  number  of  his  vassals  m  honor  of 
Christ,  the    enemy  of  slavery,  and   of   the 


i 


1 


298 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  who    is  all  sweetuesB 
and  mercy. 

After  the  Holy  Sepulchre  and  St.  Peter's  at 
Eome,  there  is  no  pilgrimage  in  all  Chvisten- 
dom  more  famous  than  that  of  the  most  holy 
House  of  Loretto.    The  holy  house  of  Naza- 
reth was  venerated  by  Christians,  even  in  the   . 
life-time  of  the  Apostles,  and  St.  Helena  built 
a  temple  around  it,  which  received  the  name 
of   St.  Mary's.     Under  the  rule  of  the  Ara- 
bian caliphs,  a  multitude  of  French  pilgrims 
went  to  adore  Jesus  and  honor  Mary  in  that 
poor  and  lowly  dwelling,  where  they,  led,  for 
such  a  long  space  of  time,  a  laborious  and 
hidden  life.     But  when  the  Turkish  Seljou- 
cides  had  enslaved  their  former  masters,  the 
pilgrims  from  Europe  who  ventured  into  Sy- 
ria, to  visit  Jerusalem   and   Nazareth,  were 
so  barbarously  treated  that  it  roused  to  fury 
the  entire  West,  which  threw  itself  on  Asia. 
When  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  had  been  pro- 
claimed  king    of    Jerusalem,    Tancred    was 
named   governor  of    Galilee.      That    prince, 


Stf  !.V»iWi^i**-^«t  -*^  • ' 


Leoends  op  St.  JosEPn. 


299 


P  St.  Jobeph. 

,  who    is  all  sweetuesB 

ulchre  and  St.  Petov's  at 
Igiiniage  in  all  Cluisten- 
in  that  of  the  most  holy 
rhe  holy  house  of  Naza- 
y  Christians,  even  in  the 
ties,  and  St.  Helena  built 
ivhich  received  the  name 
ler  the  rule  of  the  Ara- 
itude  of  French  pilgrims 

and  honor  Mary  in  tliat 
lUing,  where  they,  led,  for 
of  time,  a  laborious  and 
■hen  the  Turkish  Seljou- 
their  former  masters,  the 
pe  who  ventured  into  Sy- 
lem  and  Nazareth,  were 
bed  that  it  roused  to  fury 
hich  threw  itself  on  Asia. 

Bouillon  had  been  pro- 
Jerusalem,  Tancred  was 
f    Galilee.      That    prince, 


who  had  a  great  devotion  to  Mary,  proved  it 
by  the  sumptuous  offerings  wherewith  he  en- 
riched the  church   of  Nazareth.      After  the 
expedition  of  St.  Louis,  that  corner  of  the 
earth,  regarded  as  the  cradle  of  Christianity, 
was  defended,  foot  by  foot,  by  the  Knights  of 
the  Temple.      Those  valiant  warriors    shed 
tears  of  rage  and  giief  at  sight  of  the  holy 
places  profaned  by  the  Saracens.     Sometimes, 
forgetting    the  distance    that    separates    the 
creature  from  the  Creator,  they  carried  their 
rash  zeal  so  far  as  to  be  vexed  with  Him  who 
guides  the  course  of  human  affairs,  and  re- 
proached the  God  of  Armies  with  the  victo- 
ries of  their  enemies. 

Galilee,  whitened  with  the  bones  of  the 
Latin  warriors,  had  become  Mahometan.  God 
willing  not  that  the  Holy  House  of  Mary  should 
remain  exposed  to  the  profanation  of  the 
Infidels,  had  it  transported  by  Angels  to  Scla- 
vonia  or  Dalmatia,  to  a  little  mountain  called 
Tei-sato.  The  miracles  every  day  wrought  in 
that  house,  the  judicial  investigation  which 


!i 

Sis 
i  i 

ttf 


800 


Leqendh  op  St.  Joskph. 


1 


dcputicH  from  that  country  wont  to  Nazareth 
to  make,  in  order  to  establish  tlie  fact  of  its 
removal  to  Dalmatia;  finally,  the  universal 
porsniusiou  of  the  nations,  who  came  from  all 
parts  to  venerate  it,  seemed  to  be  incontostible 
proofs  of  the  truth  of  the  prodigy.     It  pleased 
God,  nevertheless,  to  give  yet  onother,  whereof 
all  Italy  and  Dalmatia  were  in  some  sort  the 
witness.    After  three  years  and  seven  months, 
the  Holy  House  was  transported  across  the 
Adriatic  Sea,  to  the  territory  of  Recanati,  in 
the  March  of  Ancona,  in  the  midst  of  a  wood 
belonging  to  a  pious  and  noble  widow,  named 
Lauretta.    An  ancient  tradition  relates  that, 
on  the  arrival  of  the  Holy  House,  the  great 
trees  of  the  Italian  forest  bowed  down  in  to- 
ken of  respect,  and  so  remained  till  the  winds, 
the  axe,  or  i^e  laid  them  on  the  ground. 

This  new  removal  grieved  the  people  of 
Dalmatia  so  much  that  they  could  scarcely 
survive  it.    To  console  themselves,  they  built,  • 
on  the  very  spot,  a  church  consecrated  to  the 
Mother  of  God,  since  in  charge  of  the  Fran- 


St.  Johki'H. 


Leqendh    )F  St.  Joseph. 


301 


untry  wont  to  Nazareth 
establish  tlie  fact  of  its 
;  finally,  the  universal 
ions,  who  came  from  all 
omed  to  bo  incontostible 
the  prodigy.    It  plo-ised 
^ive  yet  another,  whereof 
%  were  in  some  sort  the 
years  and  seven  months, 
,  transported  across  the 
territory  of  Becanati,  in 
,,  in  the  midst  of  a  wood 
and  noble  widow,  named 
lit  tradition  relates  that, 
e  Holy  House,  the  great 
forest  bowed  down  in  to- 
lo  remained  till  the  winds, 
ihem  on  the  ground, 
d  grieved  the  people  of 
that  they  could  scarcely 
ole  themselves,  they  built,  • 
shurch  consecrated  to  the 
ce  in  chaise  of  the  Fran- 


ciscans, and  on  the  door  of  wliirh  was  placed 
this  inscription  :  Hie  vnt  lot'im  /»  (jm  J'uit  sncra 
domuH  NdXiirnitt,  qiKr  nunc  I'n  Efvlwtl  jmrt'ilms 
colli II r.  Many  inhabitants  of  Dulinutia  even 
caitio  to  Italy  to  fix  their  dwelling  near  the 
Holy  House,  and  established  there  the  com- 
pany of  Corpus  -Chnstl,  so  called  by  the  Scla- 
voniaiiH,  till  the  pontificate  of  Panl  III. 

The  event  was  so  noised  about  in  Christen- 
dom, that  there  came  from  almost  all  Europe 
an  innumerable  multitude  of  pilgrims  to  Ro- 
canati,  in  order  to  honor  the  Holy  House  of 
Loretto,  as  it  was  called.     To  establish  more 
and  more  the  truth  of  this  miracle,  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  province  sent  to  Dalmatia,  and 
afterwards  to  Nazareth,  sixteen  persons  the 
best  qualified  for  the  task,  who  made  a  new 
investigation  in  those  places.     But  God  Him- 
self vouchsafed  to  make  it  manifest  beyond 
all  doubt,  by  suddenly  renewing,  twice  in  suc- 
cession, the  prodigy  of  the  removal  in  the  very 
territory  of  Recanati.    For,  at  the  end  of  eight 
months,  the  forest  of  Loretto,  being  infested 


•  m 


302 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


lis 


11 


t 


I* 

1 


by  brigands  who  stopped  pilgrims,  the  House 

was  transported  a  thousand  miles  away,  and 

placed  on  a  little  height  belonging  to   two 

brothers  of  the  family  of  Antici ;  and  finally, 

the  latter  having  taken  up  arms  one  against 

the  other,  to  divide  the  offerings  of  the  pil- 

gi-iras,  the  Holy  House  was  transported  to  i 

place  farther  off,  and  on  the  high  road,  where 

it  remained,  and  where  the  town  called  Lorett< 

was  afterwards  built. 

The  church  of  Loretto  has  been  magnifi 

cently  adorned  by  the  Sovereign  Pontiffs,  wh 

have  themselves  often  gone  thither  on  pil 

grimage.     Three  doors  of  chased  bronze  giv 

entrance  to  the  holy  temple,  in  the  centre  ( 

which  stands  the  Holy  House,  in  its  garb  . 

white  marble,  adorned  with  superb  hassi-rdiei 

The  miraculous  statue  of  Mary  is  carved 

cedar  wood,  covered  with  magnificent  draper 

and  placed  on  an  altar  resplendent  with  pi 

cious  stones.    The  niche  it  occupies  is  lin 

with  plates  of  gold,  and  lamps  of  massive  sih 

burn  night  and  day  before  it.    May  they 


as 


OP  St.  Joseph. 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


303 


stopped  pilgrims,  the  House 
a  thousand  miles  away,  and 
,le  height  belonging  to  two 
family  of  Antici ;  and  finally, 
5  taken  up  arms  one  against 
ide  the  offerings  of  the  pil- 
House  was  transported  to  a 
and  on  the  high  road,  where 
where  the  town  called  Loretto 

)uilt. 

)f  Loretto  has  been  magnifi- 
oy  the  Sovereign  Pontiffs,  who 
s  often  gone  thither  on  pil- 
3  doors  of  chased  bronze  give 

holy  temple,  in  the  centre  of 
he  Holy  House,  in  its  garb  of 
domed  with  superb  bassi-relievi. 
i  statue  of  Mary  is  carved  in 
rered  with  magnificent  drapery, 

an  altar  resplendent  with  pre- 
The  niche  it  occupies  is  lined 
rold,  and  lamps  of  massive  silver 
d  day  before  it.    May  they  be 


the  image  of  our  lasting  love  for  the  Divine 
Mother  of  the  Saviour ! 

With  the  intention  of  thanking  God  for  the 
great  benefit  He  was  pleased  to  confer  ou 
Western  Christendom, — when,  to  compensate 
for  the  loss  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  He  caused 
to  be  transported  to  a  Catholic  land  the  hum- 
ble yet  august  house  wherein  the  Virgin  Mary 
received  the  Angel's  message,  and  where,  by 
the  consent  of  that  Amiable  Mother  of  God, 
the  Word  was  made  flesh  and  began  to  dwell 
with  us,— the  Church  instituted  a  feast,  under 
the  name  of  the  translation  of,  the  Holy  House 
of  Loretto, — a  feast  which  is  celebrated  during 
the  holy  time  of  Advent.     Hitherto  it  has 
not  been  one  of  obligation  in  the  Universal 
Church ;  but  it  is  kept  at  Eome  and  in  all  the 
Pontifical  States,  in  Tuscany,  in  the  Kiugdom 
of  Naples,  in  Spain,  in  Belgium,  and  also  in 
most  of  the  religious  Orders. 

Benedict  XIV.,  of  immortal  memory,  the 
Bollandists,  a  hundred  Pontifical  Bulls,  estab- 
lish as  a  fact  worthy  of  faith,  that  the  Sane- 


n 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


tuary  of  Our  Lady  of  Loretto,  venerated  by 
all  Catholic  nations,  is  the  sacred  he  use  in 
which    the    Word    of    God    was    conceived. 
Transported  by  Angels  to  the  banks  of  the 
Adriatic,  that  poor  house,  more  rich,  more 
magnificent  in  the  eyes  of  faith  than  the  Tem- 
ple of  Solomon,  has  been  visited  for  six  hun- 
dred years,  by  all  that  the  Church  has  pro- 
duced greatest  in  the  order  of  sanctity.     St. 
Philip  de  Neri,  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Charles  Bor- 
romeo,  St.  Francis  de  Sales,  St.  Yincent  de 
Paul,  and  St.  Alphonso  Liguori,  went  to  medi- 
tate, in  the  shadow  of  the  walls  which,  for 
thirty-three  years,  sheltered  Jesus  and  Mary, 
on  the  great  mystery  of  eternal  love. 

Sovereign  Pontiffs,— powerful  monarchs,— 
illustrious  princesses,— men  of  genius,— rich 
and  poor,— went  also  on  pilgrimage  to  this 
Holy  House,  where,  for  nearly  twenty  cen- 
turies, the  Creator  of  the  world  and  the 
Queen  of  Heaven  have  dwelt. 

Humble  abode,  become,  by  the  Incarnation 
of  the  Word,  the  hoUest  place  on  earth,  thy 


OP  St.  Joseph. 


of  Loretto,  venerated  by 
1,  is  the  sacred  htuse  in 
of  God  was  conceived. 
5els  to  the  banks  of  the 

house,  more  rich,  more 
f'es  of  faith  than  the  Tem- 

been  visited  for  six  hun- 
;hat  the  Church  has  pro- 
he  order  of  sanctity.    St. 
Ignatius,  St.  Charles  Bor- 
de  Sales,  St.  Yincent  de 
nso  Liguori,  went  to  medi- 
r  of  the  viralls  which,  for 
sheltered  Jesus  and  Mary, 
y  of  eternal  love, 
fa, — ^powerful  monarchs, — 
es, — men  of   genius, — rich 
Iso  on  pilgrimage  to  this 
e,  for  nearly  twenty  cen- 
f   of   the   world   and   the 
lave  dwelt. 

become,  by  the  Incarnation 
hoUest  place  on  earth,  thy 


Lkoends  of  St.  Joseph. 


805 


blessed  walls  must  have  melted  away  with 
wonder,  when  they  felt  themselves  touched 
by  the  hand  of  the  Infant  God,  when  they 
had  the  glory  of  protecting  the  existence  of 
His  August  Mother,  when  they  were  witness 
of   the  highest  manifestation  of  Divine  love. 
Let  other  nations  boast  their  gigantic  monu- 
ments, let  Home  and  Greece  propose  for  ad- 
miration their  temples  of  marble  and  of  por- 
phyry ;  let  them  glory,  as  much  as  they  will, 
iu  their  palaces,  all  glittering  with  gold  and 
jewels:   thou  alone,  O  House  of   Nazareth, 
hast  the  proud  boast  of  containing  the  King 
of  kings,  the  Lord  of  lords,  the  Judge  of  the 
universe.    Yes,  sacred  dwelling,  it  is  under 
thy  modest  roof  that  infinite  wisdom,  power,^ 
and  goodness  have  fully  revealed  themselves 
by  the  Incarnation.    Ohl   how  these  truths 
mako  my  heart  beat!  how  they  expand  my 
sentiments  of  admiration  and  of  gratitude  for 
Jesus  and  His  Divine  Mother  I 


.•J 
t 


XXXVII. 

THE  ADVOCATE  OF  HOPELESS  CASES. 

.  PETER  holds  the  keys  of  heaven's 

gate,  ,4 

Kind,  but  severe   he   is,  old  legends 

state  ; 

For  the  poorest  comer  he  finds  a  place, 
If  he  lived  t^pd  died  in  the  Lord's  sweet  grace. 
But  if  any  one  comes  who  spent  his  days 
Far  from  God  and  His  blessed  ways. 
Neither  crowu  nor  sceptre  could  favor  win, 
Nor  the  Pope  himself  might  enter  in. 

Who  knocks  so  ? — ^"Tis  a  mighty  lord. 
Was  his  life  a  good  one  to  record? 
Did  he  keep  God's  precepts  night  and  day  ? — 
No. — ^No  heaven  for  him.     Away  !  away  1 — 
And  who  is  this  other  ?— A  miser.— Go  I 
No  lover  of  money  will  Jesus  know. — 


Legends  op  St.  Joseph. 


307 


IXXVII. 

OF  HOPELESS  CASES. 
L  holds  the  keys  of  heaven's 

it  severe   he   is,  old  legends 

ler  he  finds  a  place, 
I  in  the  Lord's  sweet  grace. 
Bs  who  spent  his  days 
His  blessed  ways, 
sceptre  could  favor  win, 
slf  might  enter  in. 

'Tis  a  mighty  lord. 
I  one  to  record? 
precepts  night  and  day  ? — 
•rhim.    Away!  away  1 — 
her  ? — A  miser. — Go  1 
will  Jesus  know. — 


And  the  third  ?— A  clever  attorney.— Nay, 
No  conscienceless  lawyer  admit  I  may.— 
This  other  one  !    What  hath  he  to  show  ? 
Some  eloquent  writings.    Let  him  go. 
And  this  artist  ?— Great  things  hath  he  done.— 
Here  by  good  works  alone  is  glory  won.— 
Ha  !  this  valiant  soldier  1  how  died  he  ?— 
He  fought,  lest  his  honor  should  tarnish'd  be,     > 
And  so  was  slain.— But  Our  Lord  once  said, 
When  He  to  Caiaphas'  hall  was  led,        , 
And  cruelly  struck,  as  the  Scriptures  say  : 
"  From  him  who  strikes  turn  not  away." — 
Now,  who  is  this  lady,  in  robes  so  fine  ?— 
On  earth,  her  beauty  was  call'd  divine.  » 

So  ample  her  robes,  it  took  folding-doors, 
To  open  her  way  to  her  marble  floors. —     *    "'-' 
Ah  I  narrow  the  way  is  Our  Lord  hath  made  ; 
The  brood  way  she  chose,  I  am  sore  afraid. 
The  flowery  path  leads  down  to  hell. 
The  thorny  to  heaven,  as  sages  tell. 
If  heaven  were  gain'd  by  the  easy  way. 
What  need  were  there,  then,  to  fast  and  pray? 
The  just  would  have  vigils  and  tears  in  vain, 
And  sinners  the  profit,  without  the  pain.     . 


E  , 


f    i 


^■^ 


308 


Leoendb  of  St.  Joseph. 


In  Naples,  a  story  like  this  is  told, 
A  simple  tale  of  the  ages  old,   '    ■ 
From  which  may  be  taken  both  bad  and  good, 
According  to  what  is  the  hearer's  mood. 
By  people  in  health  it  is  oft  abused, 
And  by  the  dying  with  profit  used. 
'Mongfit  the  Lazzaroni  it,  then,  occurr'd.    - 
And  the  tale  full  many  a  heart  hath  stirr'd. 


f     ' 

.'1 

If 


Since  Peter  first  kept  watch  and  ward, 
A  moment  he  had  not  been  oflf  guard  ; 
Yet  sinners  so  many  had  found  their  way 
Into  heaven,  he  knew  not  what  to  say. 
"  If  those  people  are  happy  now,"  said  he, 
"  'Tis  not  my  fault,  as  all  may  see;    . 
For,  as  to  me,  I  take  good  care 
That  no  such  persons  shall  enter  there." 


11)1 


The  beloved  Apostle  went  that  way  : 
"  What  aileth  thee,  Peter  ?  "  he  stopped  to  say. 
"  Is  anything  wrong  with  the  Church  below  ?"— 
"No,  I  fear  for  the  Church  up  here."— "How  so?" 
"  Say,  hast  thou  not  mark'd  some  faces  here 
That  little  fitted  for  heaven  appear  ? 


OF  St.  Joseph. 

ke  this  is  told, 

ages  old, 

taken  both  bad  and  good, 

8  the  hearer's  mood. 

it  is  oft  abused, 

ith  profit  used. 

oni  it,  then,  occurr'd.  ' 

my  a  heart  hath  stirr'd. 

pt  watch  and  ward, 
lot  been  off  guard  ; 
f  had  found  their  way 
sw  not  what  to  say.         ,     •■ 
e  happy  now,"  said  he,  i      5' • 
as  all  may  see;         wtis    *uv 
ke  good  care  '> '     - 

ns  shall  enter  there." 

le  went  that  way  : 
,  Peter  ?  "  he  stopped  to  say. 
g  with  the  Church  below  ?  " — 
I  Church  up  here."— "How  so?" 
)t  mark'd  some  faces  here 
ir  heaven  appear  ? 


Lboends  of  St.  Joseph. 


309 


They  needs  must  have  led  bad  lives  below ; 

You  have  but  to  look  at  them  to  know 

That  heaven  has  cost  them  less  to  buy, 

Ay,  an  hundred-fold,  than  yon  or  I." 

_"  'Tis  true,"  said  John,  "  but  you're  not  to  blame, 

The  keys  of  heaven  you  kept  the  same." 

"  I  know,"  said  Peter,  "  but  now,  you  see, 

'Tis  Joseph  makes  all  this  trouble  for  me. 

Let  people  on  earth  be  what  they  may, 

Though  they  spend  their  lives  in  the  very  worst  way, 

If  they  call  upon  him  when  death  draws  near, 

And  cry  '  MeSi  culpa,'  he  brings  them  here. 

How  he  gets  them  in,  wliy,  I  cannot  tell ; 

But  'tis  not  by  my  gate,  I  know  full  well. 

Now,  John,  we  must  let  the  Master  know." 

^-"  You  may  try,"  said  John, "  but  before  you  go, 

I  tell  you  that  Peter  has  but  small  chance 

Should  Joseph  to  plead  his  cause  advance." 

Then  Peter  bethought  him  'twere  well  to  take     ^ 

Advice,  and  of  John  a  guide  to  make. 

"  Dear  Apostle,"  said  he,  "  I  remember  now 

Hpw  the  Lord  loved  him  of  the  gentle  brow  : 

When  at  the  supper  he  told  us  all 

•  Into  treachery  one  of  you  twelve  shall  fall,' 


810 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


I,  like  the  others,  was  stupified, 

And  dared  not  ask  'How  shall  this  woe  betide?' 

How  you  on  the  Master's  bosom  lay, 

And  were  not  afraid  such  words  to  say. 

So  then  I  made  you  a  sign  to  speak, 

And  He  turn'd  to  you  with  aspect  meek, 

"When  tve  all  shrank  from  His  searching  eye, 

And,  of  all,  was  none  more  afraid  than  I. 

Now,  come  with  me,  John,  and  I  will  not  fear." 

— Together  they  seek  the  Master  dear  ; 

Peter  looking  a  little  confused, 

And  John,  as  though  he  were  much  amused. 

Full  soon  they  saw  the  Saviour  stand  ' 

With  Mary  and  Joseph  on  either  hand. 

"  What  would'st  thou,  Peter  ?  "  the  Master  said. 

"  I  am  troubled,  dear  Lord,"  and  he  rais'd  his  head; 

"John  will  tell  Thee  why  I  grieve, — 

It  is  that,  without  let  or  leave. 

All  sorts  of  people  Joseph  lets  in. 

Even  those  who  have  spent  their  life  la  sia ; 

If,  at  their  death  on  him  they  call. 

Why,  into  heaven  he  brings  them  all ; — 

Indeed,  good  Lord,  it  is  hardly  fair 

To  those  who  serve  thee  well  down  there." 


s  OF  St.  Joseph. 

was  stupified, 

;  'How  shall  this  woe  betide?' 
[aster's  bosom  lay, 
id  such  words  to  say. 
lu  a  sign  to  speak, 
you  with  aspect  meek, 
>k  from  His  searching  eye, 
one  more  afraid  than  I. 
»e,  John,  and  I  will  not  fear." 
eek  the  Master  dear  ; 
;tle  confused, 

]gh  he  were  much  amused. 
J  the  Saviour  stand 
oseph  on  either  hand, 
thou,  Peter  ?  "  the  Master  said, 
ear  Lord,"  and  he  rais'd  his  head; 
lee  why  I  grieve, — 
;  let  or  leave, 
)  Joseph  lets  in, 
ave  spent  their  life  in  sia ; 
on  him  they  call, 
he  brings  them  all ; — 
1,  it  is  hardly  fair 
'6  thee  well  down  there." 


Lboends  op  St.  Joseph. 


811 


— "  Bat,  Peter,  if  I  forgive  his  sins, 
A  heavenly  crown  the  sinner  wins,— 
No  soul  to  heaven  hath  Joseph  brought 
Who  had  not  first  ray  mercy  sought." 
_"  I  know,"  said  Peter,  "  to  die  in  grace 
Is  all  that  is  needed  to  see  Thy  face  ; 
'Twas  thus  the  good  thief  got  entrance  here, 
And  such  cases  there  may  be  yet,  that's  clear,- 
But,  methinks  'tis  not  well  for  the  Church  below, 
That  these  elect  of  Joseph's  to  heaven  go  : 
If  people  on  earth  should  come  to  hear 
That  such  sinners  may  find  an  entrance  here, 
My  successors  may  thunder  forth  in  vain 

The  terrible  judgments,  the  endless  pain. 
Awaiting  the  sinner  beyond  the  grave,  ' 

Who,  in  life,  seeketh  not  his  soul  to  save."     . 
_"  Peter,  'tis  true  ;  but  yet,  I  pray, 
How  could  I  say  my  father  nay  ? 
For  thee,  friend  Peter,  let  none  in 

Who  cannot  show  pardon  for  their  sin." 
__"  But  if  Joseph  goes  on  in  this  singular  way, 
What  use  is  in  my  keeping  watch,  I  say  ? 
I  close  the  gate,  but  the  walls  they  scale, 
I'm  sorry  to  have  to  tell  the  tale. 


812 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


\l\ 


15 


H  1 


Now  here  is  John  who  can  safely  sny 
That  heaven  growa  worse  from  day  to  day, 
By  letting  in,  every  week  or  so,         / 
A  good  thufov  two,  as  we  all  of  us  know. 
I  would  not  complain  if  the  thing  were  rare, 
But  heaven  is  full  of  them  now,  I  declare." 

Far  different  was  the  Saviour's  care. 
He  who  once  died  hif:h  raised  in  air. 
Praying  for  mercy  on  His  foes. 
And  feeling,  more  tlian  death's  dread  throes, 
The  cruel  thought  that  His  suff 'rings  dire 
Would  not  save  all  men  from  hell's  fierce  fire. 
So,  hearing  St.  Peter's  complaint.  He  smiled. 
And  His  look  was  so  very  sweet  and  miH 
Thd  Teeter  thought  he  had  carried  the  day, 
And  was  henceforth  to  have  his  rightful  way. 
"  Now  Peter,"  the  sweet  Lord  Jesus  said, — 
The  Apostle,  list'ning.  bow'd  his  head,— 
"  We  will  settle  this  matter  once  for  all : 
You  want  none  here  but  my  chosen  few. 
And  would  have  heaven  gain'd  by  service  tme  ; 
Now,  I  give  it  for  love,  as  thou  shalt  see, 
And  the  fuller  it  is,  the  more  pleasing  to  me : 


m 


8  OF  St.  Joseph. 

who  can  safely  say 

I  worse  from  day  to  day, 
y  week  or  so,         i 

TO,  as  we  all  of  us  know, 
ain  if  the  thing  were  rare, 
of  them  now,  I  declare." 

the  Saviour's  care, 

hif;!i  raised  in  air, 
■  ou  His  foes, 

than  death's  dread  throes, 
;  that  His  sufif 'rings  dire 

II  men  from  hell's  fierce  fire, 
eter's  complaint,  He  smiled, 
8  so  very  sweet  and  miH 
ht  he  had  carried  the  day, 
•th  to  have  his  rightful  way. 
e  sweet  Lord  Jesus  said, — 
ning.  bow'd  his  head, — 
;hi8  matter  once  for  all : 
lere  but  my  chosen  few, 

heaven  gain'd  by  service  true  ; 
r  love,  as  thou  shalt  see, 
is,  the  more  pleasing  to  me : 


Legends  of  St.  Joseph. 


813 


I  have  suffer'd  so  much  to  redeem  mankind 

That  to  save  them  all  I  am  well  inclined  ; 

In  this,  then,  Joseph  and  I  agree. 

And  if  our  mercy  displeases  thee. 

Go  choose  a  company  of  thine  own, 

jAnd  make  it  to  suit  thyself  alone  ; 

But  Mary  and  Joseph  and  I,  all  three, 

Will  have  a  heaven  so  fair  and  free 

That  every  sinner  who  contrite  dies 

Shall  there  in  endless  glory  rise." 

—"Friend  Peter,"  said  John,  "What  think  yea 

now?" 
—Said  Peter,  "Lord,  to  Thy  will  I  bow."      • 


f-: 


if 

is 

n 


^5     . 

'4' 


-5S!S33SSRrr' 


APPENDIX. 


8T.  JOSEPH'S  NAME. 


TnB  eighth  day  after  hla  birth,  the  son  of  Jacob 
was  circimciRed,  according  to  law,  and  was  called 
Joseph.     That  blessed  name,  which  signifies  abun- 
dance and  increwe,  because  it  announced  the  trea- 
sures of  grace  and  of  merit  wherewith  his  soul  was  to 
be  enriched,  is  the  noblest  and  the  sweetest  of  all 
names,  after  those  of  Jesus  and  Mory.     According 
to  St.  Anselm  and  St.  John  Damascene,  it  contained 
an  epitome  of  the  whole  history  of  the  new-born 
child.    Under  his  auspices  was  to  grow  up  that  In- 
fant God,  who,  visiting  the  sterility  of  the  anathe- 
matized earth,  was  to  spread  abroad  over  it  the 
abundance  of  His  graces  and  His  benefits.    He  him- 
self, raised. up  by  that  God  from  humiliation  and 


r.l 


316 


Appendix. 


oblivion,  was  to  acquire,  before  men  and  angels,  an 
increase  of  honor  and  glory. 

The  name  of  Joseph  realizes,  therefore,  to  the  let- 
ter, its  etymological  signification.  Everywhere  there 
are  towns,  religions  congregations,  and  Christians, 
who  honor  him  by  bearing  it.  It  has  designated,  in 
history,  many  saints,  many  bishops,  even  many  princes. 
Nor  is  its  reign  ended  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it 
shall  be  placed,  as  a  perftime  and  a  sacred  seal,  on 
the  brow  of  the  children  of  this  age,  and  that  this 
generation  will  grow  up,  pure  and  active,  after  the 
image  of  St.  Joseph. 


i'.i 

¥4 


n% 


B. 

AD  BEATISSIMVM  JOSEPH. 

IMVOCATIO. 

J  esn  nutritor  pater,  conjnxque  Marise, 

O  sidus  radians,  Coelicolumque  decor ! 

S  is  tu  nostra  salus  tetro  sub  limine  lethi, 

E  t  nobis  liceat,  te  recreante,  mori  1 

P  rotector  mentes  miseras  solare  tuorum  ^ 

H  ymnos  da  aeternos  mox  ut  ad  astra  canant  1 


^PENDIX. 


Appendix. 


317 


ire,  before  men  and  angels,  an 

glory. 

ih  realizes,  therefore,  to  the  let- 

ig'nification.    Everywhere  there 

congregations,  and  Christians, 
iaring  it.  It  has  designated,  in 
nany  bishops,  even  many  princes. 
i  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it 

perfume  and  a  sacred  seal,  on 
dren  of  this  age,  and  that  this 
'  up,  pure  and  active,  after  the 


(TIUVKStATION.J 

INVOCATION  TO  THE  BLESSED  ST.  JOSEPH. 

Foster  father  of  Jesus,  chaste  spouse  of  Mary, 
bright  star  of  heaven,  the  glory  and  honor  of  the 
Saints,  ah  1  be  our  safeguard  at  that  sorrowful  hour 
when  we  cross  the  threshold  of  our  eternity.  Grant 
us  the  favor  of  expiring  gently  under  thy  blessed 
eyesl  Powerful  Protector,  comfort,  on  earth,  the 
sorrowful  soul  of  thy  servants,  and  grant  that  they 
may  one  day  go  to  chant  in  heaven  the  never-ceasing 
hymn  of  eternal  felicity  1 


% 

VTISSIMUM  JOSEPH. 

IMVOCATIO.  • 

iter,  conjuxque  Marise,      *' 

Coelicolumque  decor  1 

lus  tetro  sub  limine  lethi, 

te  recreante,  mori  1 

js  miseras  solare  tuorum  ^ 

rnos  mox  ut  ad  astra  canant  1 


-?nt 


0. 
BAPTISM  OF  THE  FIRST  SA  VAGE  AT  MONTREAL. 

The  first  savage  baptized  and  married  before  the 
Church  received  in  baptism  the  name  of  Joseph  ;  and 
that,  says  Father  Vimont,  to  make  him  bear  the 
name  of  the  head  of  the  first  family  presented  by  the 
clergy  of  Montreal  as  the  model  of  the  savages  and 
the  patron  of  the  country. 


818 


Appendix. 


8T.  JOSEPH'S  MARRIAGE  RING. 

Benedict  XIV.,  in  his  Treatise  on  the  Beaiijka- 
Hon  and  Canonization  of  Saintn,  represents,  as  wor- 
thy of  veneration,  the  pious  belief  held  by  the  inhab- 
itants of  Perngia,  that  they  possess  that  same  ring 
which  Joseph  put  on  Mary's  finger  at  the  moment  of 
their  union. 

Pius  IX.,  in  the  journey  which  he  made  in  1851, 
through  the  States  of  the  Church,  amidst  the  acclam- 
ations of  his  subjects,  when  celebrating  the  holy 
Mass  in  the  cathedral  of  Perugia,  requested  that  this 
famous  relic  should  be  exposed  on  the  altar,  vene- 
rated it  with  great  devotion,  then  gave  it  to  be  kissed 
by  the  young  Archduke  of  Tuscany,  who  had  come, 
in  the  name  of  his  family,  to  pay  him  homage. 


■       ■  '  B. 

AFPARITION  OF  THE  HOLY  FAMILY  TO  MR.  DE 
LA  DAUVERSIERE. 

M.  de  la  Dauversiere  having  one  day  gone  into 
the  church  of  Notre  Dame,  in  Paris,  and  having  there 
received  Holy  Communion  with   his  usual   fervor, 


lil. 


lPPENDIX. 


Appendix. 


319 


D. 

'S  MARRIAGE  RING. 

his  Treatise  on  the  Beaiijka- 
n  of  SaintK,  represents,  as  wor- 

pious  belief  held  by  the  inh8,b- 
it  they  possess  that  same  ring 
Mary's  finger  at  the  moment  of 

jurney  which  he  made  in  1857, 
the  Church,  amidst  the  acclam- 
ts,  when  celebrating  the  holy 
I  of  Perugia,  requested  that  this 
be  exposed  on  the  altar,  vene- 
ivotion,  then  gave  it  to  be  kissed 
jke  of  Tuscany,  who  had  come, 
mily,  to  pay  him  homage. 

HE  HOLY  FAMILY  TO  MR.  DE 
DAUVERSIERE. 

siere  having  one  day  gone  into 
Dame,  in  Paris,  and  having  there 
imunion  with    his  usual    fervor, 


whilst  making  his  thanksgiving  alone  near  the  statue 
of  Mary,  and  profoundly  recollected  hi  God,  was  rar 
vished  out  of  himself,  and  saw  distinctly  the  Holy 
Family— Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph.    As  he  contem- 
plated these  august  personages,  he  heard  Our  Lord 
say  these  words  three  times  to  the  Most  Holy  Virgin: 
"  Where  can  I  find  a  faithful  servant  ?  "  and  saw  that 
the  Divine  Mother,  taking  himself  by  the  hand,  pre- 
sented him  to  her  Divine  Son,  saying:  "Behold, Lord, 
this  faithful  servant."    That  then  Our  Lord  received 
him  kindly,  and  said  :  "Thou  shalt  henceforth  be  my 
faithful  servant.    I  will  clothe  thee  with  wisdom  and 
with  strength;  thou  shalt  have  thine  Angel  Guardian 
for  a  guide.    Labor  earnestly  at  my  work;  my  grace 
is  sufficient  for  thee,  and  it  shall  not  be  wanting  to 
thee."    Whereupon  the  Lord  placed  in  his  hand  a 
ring  engraved  with  the  names  of  Jesus,  Mary,  Josqah, 
telling  him  to  give  such  another  to  all  the  young  girls 
who  should  consec  ite  themselves  to  the  Holy  Family, 
in  the  congregation  he  was  going  to  establish. 


820 


Appendix. 


F. 
THE  HOLY  HOUSE. 
The  Holy  House  is  placed  under  the  dome  of  the 
basilica  iu  which  it  is  now  inclosed.    Its  form  is  ob- 
long, running  from  east  to  west,  according  to  the 
usual  direction  of  large  churches  ;  so  that  the  eastern 
wall  looks  on  the  chancel  of  the  church,"  and  the  west- 
em  on  the  nave.    The  walls,  little  conformable  to 
architectural  rules,  are  placed  without  support,  on 
ground  shifting  and  uneven  ;  so  that  any  one  may  sat- 
isfy himself,  by  passing  his  hands  through  the  spaces 
left  by  accidmts  to  the  w.»lls.  that  they  rest  on  no 
IbundatioD.  ;  ^^    ■ 

The  interior  of  the  Holy  House,  now  converted 
» into  a  chapel,  is  29  feet  8  inches  long;  12  feet  8  inches 
wide  ;  and  13  feet  3  inches  high.  On  the  north  side, 
about  the  middle  of  the  chapel,  is  seen  an  ancient 
mural  door,  with  its  deal  lintel.  Midway  in  the 
west  wall  there  is  a  small  wmdow.  with  a  bronze 
grating,  surmounted,  within  the  chapel,  by  a  wooden 
cross,  the  same  in  breadth  as  in  height.  This  cross, 
brought  from  Nazareth  with  the  Holy  House,  bears 
an  image  of  Christ,  painted  on  a  canvas  which  covers 


PEMDEC 

F. 

'OLY  HOUSE. 

placed  under  the  dome  of  the 
now  inclosed.  Its  form  is  ob- 
3t  to  west,  according  to  the 
churches  ;  so  that  the  eastern 
el  of  the  church,' and  the  west- 
e  walls,  little  conformable  to 
!  placed  without  support,  on 
sven  ;  so  that  any  one  may  sat- 
his  hands  through  the  spaces 
le  w^Us,  that  they  rest  on  no 

Holy  House,  now  converted 

8  inches  long;  12  feet  8  inches 

iches  high.    On  the  north  side, 

the  chapel,  is  seen  an  ancient 

deal  lintel.      Midway  in  the 

small  wmdow,  with  a  bronze 

ffithin  the  chapel,  by  a  wooden 

;adth  as  in  height.    This  cross, 

th  with  the  Holy  House,  bears 

linted  on  a  canvas  which  covera 


Appendix. 


the  wood.  To  the  left  of  this  cross,  towards  the  angle 
formed  by  the  two  walls,  is  a  little  cupboard,  in  which 
are  kept  two  small  cups,  believed  to  have  been  for- 
merly used  by  the  Holy  Family;  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  eastern  wall  may  be  seen  an  ancient  fire-place, 
4  feet  3  inches  high;  2  feet  4  inches  wide;  and  6  inches 
deep.  This  fire-place,  as  was  usual  amongst  the  an- 
cients, has  no  vent  for  the  smoke ;  it  merely  indicates 
the  place  for  the  fire,  which  was  sometimes  made  in 
the  centre  of  a  room,  the  smoke  escaping  through  a 
window,  or  some  other  opening,  made  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  wall.  Above  the  fire-place,  a  niche,  placed 
at  equal  distances  from  the  two  side  walls,  contains 
the  ancient  statue  of  the  Virgin,  also  brought  from 
Nazareth  with  the  Holy  House,  and  which  an  ancient 
tradition  attributes  to  St.  Luke.  This  statue,  of  cedar 
wood,  rudely  carved,  is  2  feet  8  inches,  and  the  Infant 
Jesus,  which  it  bears  in  its  arms,  is  1  foot  2  inches  in 
height.  The  altar,  placed  at  a  distance  of  some  feet 
from  the  eastern  wall,  leaves  at  the  bottom  an  empty 
space,  which  is  called  the  Holy  Chimney,  because  it 
contains  the  fireplace  already  referred  to.  The  ancient 
altar  is  inclosed  within  another ;  it  is  of  stone,  and 
was  brought  from  Nazareth  with  the  Holy  House. 


f. 


JJ 


322 


Appendix. 


According  to  an  ancient  tradition,  it  was  ^tajblished      ] 
by  the  ApoBtles  themselves,  who  celebrated  the  holy      . 

mysteries  upon  it.  , ,  ,     ..u  i:* 

The  ceiling  was  formerly  level,  and  stndded  with  W 
tie  golden  sta...    It  was  replaced,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  by  an  elegant  vault,  supported  by  a  stone 
comicT.  the  sky-blue  ground  being  divided  mto  htt^ 
squares  studded  with  gilt  stars.    On  the  walls  are 
L  very  ancient  paintings,  partly  effaced  by  t^e^ 
Most  of  these  paintings  represent  the  Blessed  V.rg m 
and  some  other  Saints;  and  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  that  they  are  anterior  to  the  date  of    he 
miraculous  transportation  of  the  Holy  House,  a«  the 
most  ancient  accounte  refer  to  these  paintings  as  al- 
ready  existing. 

ST.  JOSEPH'S  WORKSHOP. 
In  accord vce  with  an  ancient  custom,  which  stfll 
exists  amongst  the  Arabs  and  in  great  part  of  the 
East,  Joseph  worked  at  his  trade  in  a  different  locahty 
from  that  in  which  Mary  lived.  His  workshop,  where 
Jesus  Himself  wrought,  was  a  low  room  ten  or  tweWe 
feet  wide  and  as  many  long.    (Orsini.  Ufe  of  th. 


PENDIX. 


Appendix. 


828 


t  tradition,  it  was  established 
ives,  who  celebrated  the  holy 

srly  level,  and  studded  with  lit- 
ras  replaced,  in  the  sixteenth 
,  vault,  supported  by  a  stone 
round  being  divided  into  little 
gilt  stars.    On  the  walls  are 
itings,  partly  effaced  by  time. 
8  represent  the  Blessed  Virgin 
,;  and  there  is  every  reason  to 
..  anterior  to  the  date  of  the 
Aon  of  the  Holy  House,  as  the 
,  refer  to  these  paintings  as  al- 

G. 

JPff'S  WORKSWP. 
I  an  ancient  custom,  which  still 
Lrabs  and  in  great  part  of  the 
at  his  trade  in  a  different  locaUty 
lary  lived.  His  workshop,  where 
ht,  was  a  low  room,  ten  or  twelve 
aany  long.     (Orsini,  Life  of  the 


Mother  of  Ood,  ch.  viii.)— The  same  author  cites,  in 
a  note,  the  following  passage  from  Father  de  Geramb: 
"This  house  of  Joseph  is  an  hundred  and  thirty,  or 
an  hundred  and  forty  paces  firom  that  of  St.  Anne. 
The  place  is  still  pointed  out  as  St.  Joseph's  workshop. 
This  shop  was  converted  into  a  good-sized  church;  the 
Turks  destroyed  a  portion  of  it,  but  there  remains  a 
chapel  wherein  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  is  daily 
celebrated."— Baron  de  Geramb's  Pilgrimage  to  Jeru- 
salem.) These  details  are  confirmed  by  Mgr.  Mislin 
(Les  Saints-Lieux,  ch.  xxxvi.) 


THE  SAVIOUR'S  CRIB. 

We  must  distinguish  between  the  crib,  properly  so 
called  (proBsgnwwi,  as  the  Gospel  says),— a  sort  of 
hollow  cut  in  the  solid  rock  of  the  cave,— and  the  holy 
cradle  {Santa  cvlla)  formed  of  boards,  made  by  St. 
Joseph,  to  carry  the  Divine  Infant  more  conveniently 
into  exile. 

These  two  holy  relics  are  generally  confounded:  H 
is  necessary,  therefore,  to  say  a  word  concermng 
e%ch. 


I 


i 


824 


APPETiDIX. 


The  Crib,  properly  so  called,  in  which  the  Savour 

was  luid   after  His  birth,  on  a  little  straw,  is  st.ll 

preserved  at  Bethlehem,  in  the  grotto  of  the  Nativity 

the  primitive  stable.    It  is  a  place  hollowed  ma  part 

of  the  rock, resting  nowou  a  marble  pillarw luch  tak. 

the  place  of  several  stones  of  the  Crib  given  to  certa. 

churches.    One  of  these  stones,  of  a  considerable  size 

was  conveyed  to  Rome,  and  is  venerated,  even  in  o« 

own  days,  in  the  basilica  of  St.  Mary  Major,  on    h 

Esquiline;  it  is  fitted  into  the  altar  in  the  crypt  of  th 
„.,gnificent  chapel  of  the  Holy  Sacrament.  In  th 
Jious  stone  a  hollow  has  been  made,  wherem  is  m 
Lesented  the  holy  Infant  Jesus  laid  on  straw  tl 
Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  Joseph  kneeling  in  the  attita< 

of  contemplation. 

At  Bethlehem,  in  order  to  preserve  the  Crib  frc 

the  pious  ravages  of  the  pilgrims,  it  has  been  cover 

with  white  marble,  in  the  form  of  a  cradle,  four  f 

long  by  two  feet  wide.    Once  a  year,  the  Reve« 

PranciLn  Fathers,  who  minister  in  the  Church  o 

Nativity,  take  off  this  marble  covering,  and,  wit! 

brash,  remove,  and  then  distribute  the  Uttle  fragm, 

that  are  naturally  detached  from  it. 

The  holy  cradle  {Santa  cuUa)  wa«  transported  f 


AppeiJdix. 

,  80  called,  in  which  the  Saviour 
birth,  on  a  little  straw,  is  still 
,em,  in  the  grotto  of  the  Nativity, 
It  is  a  place  hollowed  in  a  part 
aowon  a  marble  pillar  which  takes 
stones  of  the  Crib  given  to  certain 
these  stones,  of  a  considerable  size, 
orae,  and  is  venerated,  even  in  our 
.asilica  of  St.  Mary  Major,  on  the 
5cl  into  the  altar  in  the  crypt  of  the 

of  the  Holy  Sacrament.  In  this 
How  has  been  made,  wherein  is  seen 
oly  Infant  Jesus  laid  on  straw,  the 
1  St.  Joseph  kneeling  in  the  attitude 

ia  order  to  preserve  the  Crib  from 
of  the  pilgrims,  it  has  been  covered 
,e,  iu  the  form  of  a  cradle,  four  feet 
wide.    Once  a  year,  the  Reverend 
.rs,  who  minister  in  the  Church  of  the 
I  this  marble  covering,  and,  with  a 
id  then  distribute  the  Uttle  fragments 
ly  detached  fifom  it. 
Je  {Santa  cuM)  was  transported  from 


Appendix. 


825 


the  Holy  Land  to  Rome,  in  the  year  642.    It  is  cora- 
poscd  of  five  small  boards,  the  largest  of  which  ap 
pears  to  be  24  feet  iu  length  by  5  inches  iu  breadth. 
Worn  away  and  blackened  by  time,  they  arc  placed 
one  over  another  and  bound  together  by  sealed  rib- 
bons,  and  arc  under  sheets  of  crystal,  in  the  form  of  a 
cradle,  which  are  supported  by  angels.    The  upper 
part  forms  a  little  dome,  wherein  is  seen' a  straw  bed, 
on  which  reposes  a  silver  statue  of  the  Divine  Jesus. 
The  whole  is  placed  in  a  beautiful  and  si)lendid  re- 
liquary, seemingly  about  six  feet  high.    On  the  pedes- 
tal whereon  is  represented  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi, 
may  be  read  those  words  of  the  Angel  to  the  Shep- 
herds :  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  &c. 

This  holy  relic  can  only  be  seen  on  Christmas  Eve 
and  Christmas  Day,  when  it  remains  exposed  at  diffe- 
rent parts  of  the  Church.    The  rest  of  the  time,  the 
holy  cradle  is  shut  up  in  the  superb  crypt,  under  the 
high  altar  of  the  basilica,  constructed  at  the  expense 
of  Pope  Pius  IX.    It  is  of  unequalled  magnificence; 
the  finest  marbles,  the  most  precious  stones,  are  there 
combined.    It  was  consecrated  by  His  Holiness  on 
the  nth  of  April,  1864. 
In  the  crypt,  under  the  chapel  of  the  Blessed  Sar 
28 


326 


Appendix. 


cramcnt,  already  mentioned  arc  preserved  some  of  the 
8waddli..g-clothe8  wherein  the  Saviour  was  wrapped, 
and  some  of  the  hay  on  which  lie  lay.  The  cloak  with 
which  St.  Joseph  covered  Him  to  save  Him  from  the 
cold,  is  v....eratfd  in  the  church  of  St.  Anastasia,  and 
the  basilica  of  the  Holy  Cross  in  Jerusalem  has  the 
privilege  of  possessing  some  of  the  hair  of  the  holy 

Infant  Jesus. 

In  the  cathedral  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  there  is  like, 
wise  preserved  a  portion  of  those  same  swaddling- 
clothes  given  by  St.  Helena. 


'       TOE  GROTTO  OF  THE  NATIVITY. 

Three  convents-one  Latin,  one  Greek,  one  Arme- 

nian-guard  the  rich  treasure  of  Bethlehem,  the  pr«. 

cious  jewel  of  Christendom,  the  grotto  in  wliich  th< 

Saviour  was  born,  protected  by  a  Constantinian  bas. 

lica.    It  is  reached  by  a  descent  of  sixteen  steps.  Th( 

grotto  incloses  the  site  of  the  stable  and  the  maugci 

It  measures  nearly  twelve  yards  in  length,  by  five  i 

width,  and  three  in  height    It  is  entirely  covere 

with  marble.    To  the  left  of  the  staircase  leading  t 


iioncci  urc  preserved  some  of  the 
•rein  the  Saviour  wns  wrapped, 
„  whicii  He  lay.  The  cloak  with 
i-rcd  Him  to  save  Him  from  the 
;hc  church  of  St.  AnaHtasin,  and 
loly  Crosfl  in  Jerusalem  has  the 
,g  some  of  the  hair  of  the  holy 

of  Aix-la-Chapelle  there  is  like, 
irtion  of  those  same  swaddling- 
Helena. 

I. .    ■    ' 

W  OF  THE  NATIVITY. 

K)ne  Latin,  one  Greek,  one  Arme- 
ch  treasure  of  Bethlehem,  the  pro- 
stcndora,  the  grotto  in  which  the 
protected  by  a  Constantiuian  basi- 
by  a  descent  of  sixteen  steps.  The 
site  of  the  stable  and  the  manger, 
twelve  yards  in  length,  by  five  m 
iu  height  It  is  entirely  covered 
the  left  of  the  staircase  leading  to 


Appendix. 


m 


the  manger,  on  the  eastern  side,  is  a  semiH^ircnlar 
excavation.    This  is  where  Our  Lord  Jesus  Chnst 

was  born.  -  . ,      .,i 

An  altar,  supported  by  two  little  marble  p.Uars 
rises  on  this  spot.     In  the  centre  of  a  rich  mosaic  of 
j„s,...r  nnd  porphyry,  is  read,  engraved  round  a  sdver 
star  the  words :  Hie  de  Virgine  Maria  Je.u.  Christus 
„aln.  ed*     A  little  farther  down  is  found  the  place 
which  the  Crib  occupied.     It  is  known  that  the  holy 
cradle  has  been  conveyed  to  Rome,  and  is  now  vene- 
rated in  St.  Mary  Major's,  hiclosed  in  a  magn.hcent 
monument,  of  bronze,  marble,  and  precious  stones,  re- 
presenting  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem.     In  front  of  the 
Crib  rises  a  small  altar  belonging  to  the  Lati.«.  dis- 
tinct  from  the  first,  which  is  the  property  of  the 
Greeks. 

J. 
ENIGMA. 

In  the  classic  days  of  old, 
I  was  the  name  of  warrior  bold  ; 
But  now  my  name  breathes  only  peace, 
That  peace  whose  charms  can  never  cease; 
.  ..Here  Jesus  Christ  wa.  bom  of  the  Virgin  Mary.- 


328 


Appendix. 


Each  day  to  penance  summon  I, 

And  men'H  conHcienco  purify; 
I  sweep  away  the  frost  and  snow,     , 
Beneath  my  feet  fresh  flowrcts  grow; 
I  bring  back  Spring,  and  the  smile  of  hope, 
To  the  poor  tlie  portals  of  plenty  ope; 
"With  a  great  Saint's  honor  I  om  allied, 
My  name  with  his  is  identified;  ■     , 

I  usher  in  the  festal  time 
When  Christ  firom  the  dead  rose  in  glory's  prtme; 
It  is  to  make  hearts  more  glad  and  free 
That  my  predecessor  gives  place  to  me. 


THE  SEPULCHRE  OF  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN  AND 
THAT  OF  ST.  JOSEPH. 

At  the  foot  of  Mount  Olivet,  beyond  the  hill  of 
Kedron,  stands  the  church  built  on  the  site  of  the 
Virgin's  tomb,  whence  her  sacred  body  was  taken  up 
to  heaven.  A  square  place,  paved  with  fine  stones, 
serves  as  a  court.  The  entrance  is  no  wise  remarkable, 
but  you  descend  to  the  sanctuary  by  a  fine  flight  of 
flay  steps,  covered  by  a  sounding  arch,  the  echoes 


LPFENDIX. 

|)cnancc  Bummon  I, 
oiiHcicHco  purify; 
I  froHt  and  Hnow,     j 
fresh  flowretB  grow; 
ing,  and  tho  Hmile  of  hope, 
[lortalK  of  plenty  ope; 
int'H  honor  I  am  allied, 
JH  if)  identified; 
ital  time  .1 

n  the  dead  rose  in  glory's  prime; 
arts  more  glad  ond  free 
!88or  gives  place  to  me. 


F  TUB  BLESSED  VIRGIN  AND 

'  OF  ST.  JOSEl'II. 

lount  Olivet,  beyond  the  hill  of 

church  built  on  the  site  of  the 

ice  her  sacred  body  was  taken  up 

re  place,  paved  with  fine  stones, 

be  entrance  is  no  wise  remarkable, 

the  sanctuary  by  a  fine  flight  of 

by  a  sounding  arch,  the  echoes 


Appendix. 


829 


of  which  repeat  the  pious  chant  of  the  pilgrims  who 
go  down  thither  singing  Litanies  and  hymns.  Thin 
holy  i)liice  receives  no  other  light  than  that  from  the 
door,  wliich  is  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  and  a  narrow 
nponing  behind  the  Sepulchre.  This  gloom  inspires 
rccoUoction  and  respect,  the  eye  soon  becomes  accn*. 
tomcd  to  it,  and  discovers  the  Tomb  where  the  Divine 
Motiier  of  the  Saviour  triumphed  over  death. 

"The  Virgin,"  says  Chateaubriand,  "was,  oecord- 
ing  to  the  opinion  of  many  of  the  Fathers,  miraculously 
buried  at  Gethsemane  by  the  Apostles.  Euthymius 
relates  the  history  of  these  marvellous  obsequies.  St. 
Thomas  having  caused  the  coffin  to  be  opened,  nothing 
was  found  therein  save  a  virginal  robe,  the  poor  and 
simple  garment  of  the  Queen  of  Glory,  who  had  been 
carried  by  Angels  to  heaven." 

Thick  walls  support  an  arch  which  covers  the 
monument,  and  forms  a  small  chapel,  so  narrow  that 
it  can  only  contain  three  or  four  persons  at  a  time. 
This  Tomb  is  now  an  altar,  and  Mass  is  celebrated 
on  the  very  spot  where  Mary's  body  reposed.  The 
monument  is  covered  with  marble,  and  a  great  number 
of  lamps  are  kept  burning  above  the  altar.  All 
Christian  nations  desired  to  have  the  Holy  Sacrifice 


Appendix. 


offered  up  in  the  Sanctuary  consecrated  by  the  Sepnl 

chre  of  the  Mother  of  God.    Thus  are  fulfilled  be 

fore  the  Tomb  of  Mary  the  prophetic  words  of  th. 

Magnificat:  "All  generations  shall  call  me  blessedJ 

The  altar  of  the  Greeks  is  placed  behind  the  Tomb 

that  of  the  Armenians  is  near  the  western  entrance 

that  of  the  Georgians  is  at  the  foot  of  the  gran 

southern  staircase  ;  that  of  the  Copts  is  in  the  na, 

itself  in  front  of  the  sepulchre.    Before  this  alU 

there  is  a  fountain  of  excellent  water,  which  the  p 

grims  drink  with  devotion.      The  Latin  Cathol. 

have  for  their  altar  the  very  Tomb  of  the  Virgi 

and  it  is  they  who  keep  the  lamps  burning  before 

night  and  day. 

The  Mahometans  themselves  would  have  in  1 
sanctuary  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus,  a  place  of  pray 
They  hollowed  a  niche  in  the  south  wall,  and  tl 
turn  towards  it  to  pray. 

The  Emperor  Theodosius  is  considered  the  f 

founder  of  this  church,  which  was  destroyed  by  CI 

roes,  and  rebuilt  by  the  Crusaders.    During  the  I 

agci  the  rums  of  Jerusalem,  heaped  in  this  part 

'    the  Valley  of  Jehosophat,  had  covered  the  Toml 

.     the  Blessed  Virgin. 


Appendix. 

mctuary  consecrated  by  the  Sepnl- 
r  of  God.    Thus  are  fulfilled  be- 
Mary  the  prophetic  words  of  the 
reneratioiw  shall  call  me  blessed." 
reeks  is  placed  behind  the  Tomb; 
ians  is  near  the  western  entrance; 
lians  is  at  the  foot  of  the  grand 
;  that  of  the  Copts  is  in  the  nave 
the  sepulchre.    Before  this  altar 
I  of  excellent  water,  which  the  pil- 
;  devotion.      The  Latin  Catholics 
tar  the  very  Tomb  of  the  Virgin, 
9  keep  the  lamps  burning  before  it 

ans  themselves  would  have  in  the 
Mother  of  Jesus,  a  place  of  prayer, 
niche  in  the  south  wall,  and  they 

0  pray. 

Theodosius  is  considered  the  first 
hurch,  which  was  destroyed  by  Choa- 
,  by  the  Crusaders.  During  the  first 
of  Jerusalem,  heaped  in  this  part  of 
jhosophat,  had  covered  the  Tomb  of 
jin. 


Appendix. 


831 


There  it  was.  according'to  a  tradition  preserved  by 
the  Greeks,  that  Mary  appeared  to  the  disciples  after 
thev  had  performed  the  last  duties  to  her  sacred  body 
Th;y  had  just  finished  the  usual  light  repast    and 
were  returning  thanks  in  these  words :  "Glory  be  to 
Thee.  O  God  1  glory  be  to  Thee ;  glory  be  to  the 
Father,  and  to  the  Son.  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost  1 

Oh '  how  great  is  the  name  of  the  Trinity  1  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  help  us  1"  The  Virgin  appeared  before 
them,  surrounded  with  splendor,  and  in  the  transports 
of  their  joy.  they  cried  :  "  Panagia  !  Panagia  1  adjuva 
nos  !"*    The  Virgin  replied :  "I  shall  be  with  you 

always."    "^  ^     .  •  '  .       f. 

When  the  pilgrims  reascend  the  grand  stmrs,  after 
havin-r  reached  the  twenty-second  step,  they  stop  to 
venerlte  the  chapel  of  St.  Joseph's  burial-place. 

..That  great  Saint,"  says  Father  Nau.  "the  cousm- 
german.  and  virginal  spouse  of  the  Queen  of  Virgms, 
L  Mother  of  God.  and  nephew  of  St.  Anne,  who 
was  the,  sister  of  his  father,  Jacob,  and  who  was,  fur- 
thermore.  the  adopted  father  of  the  Son  of  God>e 
Saviour  of  the  world,  and  the  fosterer  of  God  Him- 
self, had  como  to  Jerusalem,  to  fulfil  the  obligafona 
o  «'0  Holiest!  Holiest!  help  us!" 


832 


Appendix. 


of  the  law,  and  had  the  consolation  of  dying  there  in 
the  practice  of  that  obedience  which  he  rendered  to 
his  Creator." 

He  died  in  the  arras  of  Jesus  and  Mary,  both  of 
whom  assisted  at  his  obsequies.  According  to  tra> 
dition,  Jesns  Himself  laid  him  with  His  own  hands  in 
this  sepulchre,  which  was  to  be  so  near  that  of  Hia 
Mother.  ;■;    -->  ■  -•;•'  >  •  :',;■  :•         , 

r;  The  date  of  St.  Joseph's  death  is  uncertain.  Some 
authors  tiiink  tliat  he  died  soon  after  having  found 
Jesus  in  the  Temple  among  the  doctors ;  but  this 
opinion  is  not  confirmed  by  any  text.  According  to 
another  opinion,  Joseph  died  about  the  beginning  of 
Our  Saviour's  public  ministry.  The  body  of  St.  Jo- 
seph did  not  long  remain  in  the  sepulchre ;  he  was 
amongst  the  Saints  who  went  forth  alive  from  their 
graves  after  the  Resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  who  appeared  to  a  great  number  of  persons  in 
Jerusalem.  Father  Nau  makes,  in  this  connection,  a 
touching  reflection  :  "  Can  it  be  thought  that  he  who 
supported  the  Son  of  God  by  the  swieat  of  his  brow 
for  thirty  years,  was  left  dead  iu  his  sepulchre  ?  And 
if  God  had  left  him  there,  would  he  have  left  big 
«acred  remains  uuhonored?  .  .  .  This  Saint  is  in 


LPPENDIX. 

le  consolation  of  dying  there  in 
bedience  which  he  rendered  td 

ns  of  Jesus  and  Mary,  both  of 
obsequies.  According  to  tra- 
aid  him  with  His  own  hands  in 
ras  to  be  so  near  that  of  Hia 

sph's  death  is  uncertain.  Some 
i  died  soon  after  having  found 
among  the  doctors ;  but  this 
ed  by  any  text.  According  to 
•h  died  about  the  beginning  of 
ministry.  The  body  of  St.  Jo- 
nain  in  the  sepulchre ;  he  was 
ho  went  forth  alive  from  their 
urrection  of  the  Son  of  God, 

a  great  number  of  persons  in 
au  makes,  in  this  connection,  a 
Can  it  be  thought  that  he  who 
God  by  the  ewieat  of  his  brow 
ift  dead  in  his  sepulchre  ?    And 

there,  would  he  have  left  his 
Qored?  .  .  .  This  Saint  is  in 


Appendix. 

leaven,  body  and  soul  He  ascended  thither  at  the 
head  of  all  the  Saints  who  were  raised  up  to  heaven 
with  Jesus  Christ  on  the  day  of  His  ascension  ;  and, 
as  he  docs  not  lose  there  the  name  and  quality  of 
father,  he  possesses  a  glory  and  a  power  proportionate 
to  that  great  and  ineffable  name." 

The  chapel  of  St.  Joseph  is  on  the  right  hand  side 
of  the  grand  stairs,  as  one  goes  up  the  steps  from  the 
sanctuary.  On  the  other  side,  in  a  chapel  two  or 
three  steps  higher,  is  found  the  Tombs  of  St.  Joachim 
and  St.  Anne.  Here,  too,  Mass  is  celebrated  in  the 
chapel  right  over  the  holy  sepulchres.  The  tomb  of 
St.  Joachim  is  facing  the  east,  and  that  of  St.  Anne 

t'i  •  north. 

Thus,  in  the  same  sanctuary.  Christian  piety  vene- 
rates  all  the  members  of  this  Holy  Family,  amongst 
whom  the  Son  of  God  vouchsafed  to  be  born. 


831 


Appenddc. 


■■■'#■ 


-■  .'l 


DESCRirriny  of  ttie  site  ciiosEff  for  st.  jo- 

>■:  V    SEl'irS  STATUE  IN  TUB  IIOL  V  ZAND. 

The  group  of  hills  ainongat  which  Nazareth  stands, 
rises  in  the  plain  of  Esdralon,  having  in  front  Ptole- 
mais.  overlooking  Carmel  on  the  left,  and  Cape  Blauc 
on  the  right.    Tl»e  Cison  flows  at  their  feet.    This 
pluie  has  been  made  memorable  by  a  hundred  battles- 
On  the  otiier  side  of  the  group  are  fouud  Cuba,  Tibe- 
rias, and  Thabor.   Chef-Amar  is  not  far  from  Nazareth. 
Now.  it  was  on  one  of  these  eminences  that  the 
Holy  House  of  Joseph  and  Mary  rested  during  its 
transportation  to  Loretto.     A  more  beautiful  site 
could  not  possibly  be  imagined  whereon  to  raise  the 
Statue  of  the  Holy  Patriarch  in  whose  person  the  Old 
and  New  Law  were  bound  together.    It  will  be  when 
he  shall  rule  in  his  native  land,  that  those  oonntrico, 
desolated  by  Islamism,  shall  again  find  favor  with 
God,  and,  for  the  Holy  Land,  the  new  era  of  mercj 
shall  have  replaced  that  of  justice. 


Alppendix. 


Appendix. 


m 


;,>iir..'^ 


M. 


L.  ;;  ^:y\.u. 

UE  SITE  CHOSEN  FOR  ST.  JO- 
VE IN  TUE  UOL  Y  LAND. 

ainongat  which  Nazareth  stands, 
Esdralon,  liaving  in  front  Ptole- 
rmcl  on  the  left,  and  Cape  Blauc 
Cison  flows  at  their  feet.    This 
memorable  by  a  hundred  battles- 
the  group  are  fouud  Cuba,  Tibt- 
lef-Amar  is  not  far  from  Nazareth. 
)nc  of  these  eminences  that  the 
eph  and  Mary  rested  during  its 
joretto.     A  more  beautiful  site 
le  imagined  wliereon  to  raise  the 
Patriarch  in  whose  person  the  Old 
bound  together.    It  will  be  when 
native  land,  that  those  oonntrico, 
ism,  shall  again  find  favor  with 
loly  Laud,  the  new  era  of  mercy 
that  of  justice. 


ST  JOSEPH  SOLEMNLY  TAKEN  FOR   THE  FIRST 
PATRON  OF  CANADA. 

In  taking  possession  of  Canada,  the  Associates,* 
rejoicing  in  the  thought"  that  they  could  consecrate 
themselves  entirely  to  God,  and  knowing  that  the 
Rccollet  Fathers  had  placed  themselves  under  the, 
patronage  of  St.  Joseph,  sent  an  image  in  relievo  of 
this  holy  patron,  which  was  placed  over  the  altar  of 
Our  Lady  of  llecovcry,   {Notre-Dame  de   liecou- 
vrance.)    But,  as  the  adoption  of  St.  Joseph  for  the 
first  patron  of  Canada  had  not  been  made  with  all 
the  requisite  conditions,  while  the  Calvinists  were  m 
power  it  was  resolved  to  renew  it  with  all  the  solemni- 
ties  required  by  ecclesiastical  law.    It  was,  therefore, 
decreed  that  the  magistrates  and  people,  in  concert 
with  the  clergy,  should  ratify  it  in  the  most  solemn 
manner;  and,  that  nothing  which  might  be  desired 
should  be  wanting,   the  Sovereign  Pontiff.  Urban 
VIII    sanctioned  this  choice  by  granting  a  plenary 
indulgence  on  the  Feast  of  this  Holy  Patron.    On 
'"The  AssoclateB  numl>cred  one  hundred  ;  their  Ass.K:ia- 
tion^^^ndcr  the  name  of  the  Company  of  New  F-oe,  had  _ 
in  view  the  formation  of  a  French  colony  in  Canada. 


836 


Appe^tdix. 


the  eve  of  that  festival,  in  the  year  1637,  the  bonner 
was  raised  and  cannon  fired,  announcing  tlic  next 
day's  solemnity  ;  and,  when  night  came,  such  brilliant 
fireworks  were  sent  off  as  had  never  been  seen  in  that 
country.  M.  Jean  Bourdon,  geometrician,  planned 
and  executed  the  architectural  part,  and  the  fire- 
works were  the  composition  of  Sicur  de  Beaulieu. 
To  express  allegorically  the  object  of  the  feast,  two 
small  buildings  were  erected,  each  on  a  piece  of  wood 
sufficiently  elevated.  One  represented  New  France, 
under  the  form  of  a  square  crenellated  castle,  flanked 
at  its  angles  by  four  turrets,  each  surmounted  by  a 
flag,  all  well  proportioned  and  variegated  with  divers 
colors. 

On  the  roof  of  this  castle  rose  a  sort  of  crown ; 
over  that  again  a  revolving  wheel,  and  over  all  a 
cross,  terminated,  at  each  of  its  three  extremities,  by 
as  many  large  Jleurs  de  lis,  which  appeared  orna- 
mented with  brilliants.  This  castle,  carried  on  a 
platform,  was  defended  at  each  of  its  four  angles  by 
80  many  revolving  wheels,  and,  its  whole  circumference 
by  sixteen  jets  of  fire,  without  speaking  of  four  great 
trunks  from  which  were  to  go  forth  and  rise  into  the 
air  more  than  two  hundred  snake  (or  serpentine) 


Appendix. 

il,  in  the  year  1637,  the  banner 
ion  fired,  announcing  tlic  next 

wlien  night  came,  such  brilliant 
f  as  had  never  been  seen  in  that 
Bourdon,  geometrician,  planned 
chitectural  part,  and  the  fire- 
ipositiou  of  Sicur  de  Beaulieu. 
illy  the  object  of  the  feast,  two 
erected,  each  on  a  piece  of  wood 

One  represented  New  France, 
square  crenellated  castle,  flanked 
r  turrets,  each  surmounted  by  a 
oned  and  variegated  with  divers 

ills  castle  rose  a  sort  of  crown  ; 
revolving  wheel,  and  over  all  a 
each  of  its  three  extremities,  by 
irs  de  lis,  which  appeared  orna- 
nta.  This  castle,  carried  on  a 
led  at  each  of  its  four  angles  by 
heels,  and,  its  whole  circumference 
•e,  without  speaking  of  four  great 
fere  to  go  forth  and  rise  into  the 
hundred  snake  (or  serpentine) 


Appendix. 


887 


rockets.  Near  this  castle,  symbolical  of  New  France, 
the  other  little  edifice  was  carried  on  a  piece  of  wood. 
This  last  was  oblong ;  on  its  principal  front  appeared 
in  a  transparency  the  glorious  name  of  St.  .loseph,  in 
lArgc  Roman  letters ;  and  from  this  name  were  to 
urise  rockets,  now  iierpendicular,  now  in  arches,  in  the 
midst  of  ft  shower  of  stars,  or  of  fire. 

All  being  thus  arranged,  the  Sieur  de  Montmagny, 
with  his  lieutenant,  M.  Dclisle,  and  the  gentlemen  of 
their  suite,  came  out  of  the  fort,  and  placed  them- 
selves near  the  church  where  these  buildings  had  been 
erected.  All  the  inhabitants  of  New  France  who 
were  near  Quebec  had  gone  thither  to  share  in  this 
public  rejoicing  -f  and,  in  the  presence  of  all  these 
people,  the  governor  himself  lit  the  fireworks,  the 
sudden  splendor  of  which  amazed  the  savages,  and 
particularly  the  Hurons. 

The  next  day,  the  Feast  of  St.  Joseph,  the  church 
was  more  crowded  than  usual,  as  much  so  as  it  would 
be  on  Easter  Sunday,  each  one  blessing  God  for  hav- 
ing given  as  patron  to  New  France  the  very  guardian 
of  His  Divine  Son,  in  the  person  of  the  glorious  St 
Joseph. 


29 


888 


Appendix. 


DECREE   OF  HIS   HOLINESS,    PTUS   IX.,   DECLAR- 
ING  ST.  JOSEPU  PATRON  OF  THE  UNIVERSAL 
•      CUURCU. 

(Translation.) 

dbcbeb:  to  thbcitt  and  ih«  wobld,  (unnis  bt  okdis.) 

Even  as  God  established  Joseph,  son  of  the  patri- 
arch Jacob,  as  governor  of  all  Egypt,  to  preserve  to 
the  people  the  wheat  necessary  for  their  subsistence, 
so,  at  the    time  appointed  by  the  Eternal  to  send 
on  earth  His  only  Son,  to  redeem  the  world,  Hfl 
chose  another  Joseph,  of  whom  the  first  was  a  type. 
He  made  him  roaster  of  his  goods  and  of  His  house- 
hold. He  ap     nted  him  guardian  of  His  chief  trear 
Bures.    And     )seph  espoused  the  Immaculate  Virgin 
Mary,  of  whi,^,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
was  born  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  deigned  to  be 
reputed  by  men  the  son  of  Joseph,  and  to  be  subject 
to  him.     And  He  whom  so  many  kings  and  prophets 
had  desired  to  see,  Joseph  not  only  saw,  but  con- 
versed with,  held  Him  in  his  arms  with  paternal  affec- 
tion, covered  Him  with  kisses,  and  watched  with  the 
greatest    solicitude  over  the  maintenance  of    Him 


h 


LPFENDIX. 


Appendix. 


889 


N. 

yLLVESS,    PIUS   IX.,   DECLABr 
PATRON  OF  THE  UNIVERSAL 


rranslation.) 

LND  IH«  WOBLD,    (unniS  BT  OKBW.) 

dished  Joseph,  son  of  the  patri- 
lor  of  all  Egypt,  to  preserve  to 

necessary  for*  their  subsistence, 
ointed  by  the  Eternal  to  send 
Son,  to  redeem  the  world,  Ha 
I,  of  whom  the  first  was  a  type, 
of  his  goods  and  of  His  house- 
lim  guardian  of  His  chief  treap 
espoused  the  Immaculate  Virgin 
the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Fesus  Christ,  who  deigned  to  be 
ion  of  Joseph,  and  to  be  subject 
lom  so  many  kings  and  prophets 

Joseph  not  only  saw,  but  con- 
m  in  his  arms  with  paternal  affec- 
ith  kisses,  and  watched  with  the 
over  the  maintenance  of    Him 


whom  the  faithful  people  were  to  receive  as  the 
Bread  como  down  from  heaven,  and  the  food  of  eter- 
nal life. 

On  accoant  of  that  Rnblime  dignity  which  God  con- 
ferred upon  His  faithful  servant,  the  Church  had  ever 
paid  the  blessed  Joseph  the  highest  honor  after  the 
Most  Holy  Virgin,  his  spouse,  praised  and  glorified 
him,  and  had  recourse  to  him  in  her  greatest  afflic- 
tions. And  as,  in  these  sad  times,  the  Church,  as- 
sailed on  every  side,  is  oppressed  with  such  calamities 
that  the  impious  already  persuade  themselves  that  the 
time  is  come  at  last  when  the  gates  of  hell  shall  pre- 
vail against  her,  the  venerable  bishops  of  the  whole 
Catholic  world  have  humbly  besought  the  Sovereign 
PontifT,  in  their  name  and  that  of  the  faithful  con- 
fided to  their  care,  to  vouchsafe  to  declare  St.  Joseph 
Patron  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

These  prayere  having  been  renewed  more  earnestly 
and  more  urgently  during  the  holy  (Ecumenical  Coun- 
cil of  the  Vatican,  our  Holy  Father,  Pius  IX.,  pro- 
foundly touched  by  the  recent  deplorable  events,  de- 
siring to  place  himself  and  all  the  faithful  in  a  special 
manner  under  the  most  powerful  patronage  of  the 
holy  patriarch  Joseph,  has  deigned  to  accede  to  the 


840 


Appbndix. 


wishes  of  the  venerable  bishop«.    Wherefore  it  is 
that  he  ha«  solemnly  declared  St.  Joseph  Patron  or 
THK  Catholic  Chubch,  ami  has  decreed  that  the  feast 
of  the  Saint,  the  19th  of  Ma^eh,  be  henceforth  ob- 
served  as  a  Double  of  the  first  class,  without  «n 
Octave,  however,  on  account  of  being  in  Lent.    He 
has.  moreover,  ordained  that  the  Declaration  made 
by  the  present  decree  of  the  Holy  Congregation  of 
Ui,.s,  be  published  on  the  day  consecrated  to  the  Im- 
„.aculate  Virgin,  Mother  of  God,  and  spouse  of  the 
,„08t  chaste  Joseph.    Whatever  ordinance  to  the  con- 
trary  notwithstanding. 
Dkcgmber  8,  1810. 

constantinb, 
r7  ^  Bishop  of  Ostia  and  Velletrl  j 

Cardinal  Patrizi, 
Prefect  of  the  Sacr.  Cong,  of  Rites. 
D.  Baktolini, 

Secretary. 


lOS 


5^,-*. 


^1  ,;^,f  "i^f-^iiiam^'j-'T^-'v*^-"" 


PKNDIX. 

D  bishops.  Wherefore  it  i» 
ticlared  St.  Joseph  Patron  or 
iml  has  decreed  that  the  feast 

of  Manjh,  be  henceforth  ob- 
f  the  first  clasfl,  without  nn 
iconnt  of  being  in  Lent.  He 
id  that  the  Declaration  made 

of  the  Holy  Congregation  of 
the  day  consecrated  to  the  Im- 
uer  of  God,  ond  spouse  of  the 
SV'hatever  ordinance  to  the  con- 


CONSTANTINB, 

Bishop  of  Ostia  and  Velletrl ; 

Cardinal  Patrizi, 
t  of  the  Sacr.  Cong,  of  Bites. 

D.  Bartolini, 

Becretar;. 


mmmeawmm^imismm^s^^^i^S^'^iWM-  ~" 


